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.

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

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.

Writing is not a profession but a vocation of unhappiness. I don't think an artist can ever be happy.

We are all potentially characters in a novel--with the difference that characters in a novel really get to live their lives to the full.

I adore life but I dont fear death. I just prefer to die as late as possible.

For 30 years I have tried to make it understood that there are no criminals.