Madmen always think it's the others who are mad.

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

Money is like any other virus: once it has rotted the soul of the person who houses it, it sets off in search of new blood.

I leafed through the pages, inhaling the enchanted scent of promise that comes with all new books, and stopped to read the start of a sentence that caught my eye.

I swim against the tide because I like to annoy.

Normal people bring children into the world; we novelists bring books. We are condemned to put our whole lives into them, even though they hardly ever thank us for it. We are condemned to die in their pages and sometimes even to let our books be the ones who, in the end, will take our lives.

I turned you into a stranger in order to forget you and now I'm the stranger.