What I think is this: You should give up looking for lost cats and start searching for the other half of your shadow.

You have to dream intentionally. Most people dream a dream when they are asleep. But to be a writer, you have to dream while you are awake, intentionally.

Being alive, if you had to define it, meant emitting a variety of smells.

I'll be happy if running and I can grow old together.

I write weird stories. I don't know why I like weirdness so much ... But when I write, I write weird. That's very strange. When I'm getting more and more serious, I'm getting more and more weird.

I closed my eyes and listened carefully for the descendants of Sputnik, even now circling the earth, gravity their only tie to the planet. Lonely metal souls in the unimpeded darkness of space, they meet, pass each other, and part, never to meet again. No words passing between them. No promises to keep.

So this was how secrets got started, I thought to myself. People constructed them little by little.