Mine the long night The secret place Where lovers meet In long embrace In purple dark In silvered kiss Forget the world And grasp your bliss

One does not remember the winners. One remains haunted by the losers.

Where would we be without inhibitions? Theyre quite useful things when you look at some of the things humans do if they lose them.

Good writing is always new.

I don't understand why, in my work, writing is always so dangerous. It's very destructive. People who write books are destroyers.

There is a peculiar aesthetic pleasure in constructing the form of a syllabus, or a book of essays, or a course of lectures. Visions and shadows of people and ideas can be arranged and rearranged like stained-glass pieces in a window, or chessmen on a board.

What I need to write well is a combination of heat, light and solitude.