The mind has a mind of its own. It shows us pictures. Pictures of the past and the might-one-day-be. This mind's mind exerts its own will, too, and has its own voice.

War may be an auction for countries. For soldiers it's a lottery.

It's a small world. It keeps recrossing itself.

Lunatics are writers whose works write them.

I'm not a great deep political thinker.

Often I think boys don’t become men. Boys just get papier-mâchéd inside a man’s mask. Sometimes you can tell the boy is still in there.

I remain thankful to God for all his mercies.