„You have three hundred friends, not bad, you have never seen them in your life but you know them like the back of your hand, day and night they tirelessly write to you about what they’ve just had to eat, what they’ve had to drink, what film they’ve seen that they stole from the net, what they think about the war in Mali, in Georgia or some other country that’s been entirely fabricated for the TV news. You have a bank account where you hoard non-existent money with which you pay off non-existent debts, you buy machine-aged jeans, you travel to non-existent countries where through bullet-proof glass and the misty veils of your expensive vaccinations you are touched by the sight of poverty.“

— Map of Anna