A lot of people have found the idea of living your life over and over again absolutely terrifying; there's some people that find it very comforting. There are others that are appalled by it.

Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.

Who makes the world? Perhaps the world is not made. Perhaps nothing is made. Perhaps it simply is, has been, will always be there…a clock without a craftsman.

There are two worlds we live in: a material world, bound by the laws of physics, and the world inside our mind, which is just as important.

People have asked me why I made the first chapter of my first novel so long, and in an invented English. The only answer I can come up with that satisfies me is, 'To keep out the scum.'

I think I'm a bit like a kind of shark, that if I stop swimming, I won't be able to breathe, something like that.

I am brother to dragons, and companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.