God gives the nuts, but he does not crack them.

I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.

A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity.

Writing is a sweet, wonderful reward.

If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skull, why then do we read it?

You can choose to be free , but it's last decision you'll ever make

and in that recurring dream, I found myself trapped in some sort of gigantic game of which I was unfamiliar with the rules; lost in a labyrinthine town of dark and damp, criss-crossing streets, ambiguous characters of uncertain authority having no idea of why I was there nor what I had to do, and where the first sign of the beginning of understanding was the wish to die.