I've always felt that my subject was living in dangerous times.
A shrewd person would one day start a religion based on coincidence, if he hasn't already, and make a million.
It frequently happens that I begin a novel with just a visual image of something, a vague sense of people in three dimensional space.
I was always younger than anyone around me. One day it began to change.
All human existence is a trick of light.
He wanted paper and something to write with, some way to sustain a thought, to place it in the world.