Nobody knows much about women, not even Freud, not even women themselves. But it's like electricity: you don't need to know how it works to get a shock on the fingers.

A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept.

It’s a story of love, of hatred, and of the dreams that live in the shadow of the wind.

Never trust girls who let themselves be touched right away. But even less those who need a priest for approval.

We seem to live in a world where forgetting and oblivion are an industry in themselves and very, very few people are remotely interested or aware of their own recent history, much less their neighbors'. I tend to think we are what we remember, what we know. The less we remember, the less we know about ourselves, the less we are. (Interview with Three Monkeys Online, October 2008)

I still remember the day my father took me to the Cemetery of Forgotten Books for the first time.

I quarreled with every word, every phrase and expression, every image and letter as if they were the last I was ever going to write. I wrote and rewrote every line as if my life depended on it, and then rewrote it again.