One of them, for example, which will probably haunt me more than any other is the problem of communication.

The fact that we are I don't know how many millions of people, yet communication, complete communication, is completely impossible between two of those people, is to me one of the biggest tragic themes in the world

If your vision of the world is of a certain kind you will put poetry in everything, necessarily.

And Boucard desisted, probably because like everyone else he was deeply impressed by this man who had laid all ghosts, who had lost all shadows, and who stared you in the eyes with cold serenity.

Trotsky rises to give me his hand, then sits at his desk, gently allowing his regard to light on my person.

I'm a bit like a sponge. When I'm not writing I absorb life like water. When I write I squeeze the sponge a little - and out comes, not water but ink.

I write fast, because I have not the brains to write slow.