Bad things will happen and good things too. Your life will be full of surprises. Miracles happen only where there has been suffering. So taste your grief to the fullest. Don’t try and press it down. Don’t hide from it. Don’t escape. It is life too. It is truth. But it will pass and time will put a strange honey in the bitterness. That’s the way life goes.

I went to London because, for me, it was the home of literature. I went there because of Dickens and Shakespeare.

People are as healthy and confident as the stories they tell themselves.

We have fallen into this very mean description of humanity. Naturalism in fiction is too reductive in its definition of human beings.

The law is simple. Every experience is repeated or suffered till you experience it properly and fully the first time.

Magic becomes art when it has nothing to hide.

It is easy to forget how mysterious and mighty stories are. They do their work in silence, invisibly. They work with all the internal materials of your mind and self. They become part of you while changing you. Beware the stories you read or tell; subtly, at night, beneath the waters of consciousness, they are altering your world.