We live in a time when writers do not always have barriers around them

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

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

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.

I am at home everywhere, and nowhere. I am never a stranger and I never quite belong.

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

We live in a time when writers do not always have barriers around them