Where he had failed, I would triumph. Where he had lost his way, I would find the path out of the labyrinth.

My childhood was surrounded by books and writing. From a very early age I was fascinated by storytelling, by the printed word, by language, by ideas. So I would seek them out.

In small towns, news travels at the speed of boredom.

One mustn't dream of one's future; one must earn it.

I became a writer, a teller of tales, because otherwise I would have died... or worse.

The words with which a child's heart is poisoned, whether through malice or through ignorance, remain branded in his memory, and sooner or later they burn his soul.

Sometimes, in difficult circumstances, one can confuse compassion with love.