When anyone asks me about the Irish character, I say look at the trees. Maimed, stark and misshapen, but ferociously tenacious.
Writing is the product of a deeply disturbed psyche, and by no means therapeutic.
I'm a tuning fork, tense and twanging all the time.
I know the mistake I am making. I see the exits in life.
Writers really live in the mind and in hotels of the soul.
literature is the last banquet between minds.