Sexual activity is driven by the same aims and motives as reading poetry or listening to music: to escape the limitations imposed by the need for particularity in the consciousness.

I've always believed that a writer has got to remain an outsider.

Christianity was an epidemic rather than a religion. It appealed to fear, hysteria and ignorance. It spread across the Western world, not because it was true, but because humans are gullible and superstitious.

Imagination should be used, not to escape reality but to create it.

The exploration of oneself is usually also an exploration of the world at large, of other writers, a process of comparison with oneself with others, discoveries of kinships, gradual illumination of one's own potentialities.

Could it be that sexual perversion and romanticism sprang from the same longing for distant horizons?

If you asked me what is the basis of all my work, it's the feeling there's something basically wrong with human beings.