I hear the mad song of a little bird and crush butterflies between my fingers.

I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction?

What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human.

Do you ever suddenly find it strange to be yourself?

I work only with lost and founds.

So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.

For at the hour of death you became a celebrated film star, it is a moment of glory for everyone, when the choral music scales the top notes.