The sky is already purple; the first few stars have appeared, suddenly, as if someone had thrown a handful of silver across the edge of the world.

What men yearn for they often destroy.

Every time I finish a book, I forget everything I learned writing it - the information just disappears out of my head

Our rest is formed by our waking life and our waking life is formed by our sorrows.

My sorrow is I used to read all the time and now, as a writer, I don't have the time to read.

Sometimes words drew blood, they cut your tongue, they made you know things you couldn't unknow.

This day is going to be awful. It's the sort of day you wouldn't mind losing completely, even if it meant your life would be twenty-four hours shorter.