Only where there is disillusionment and depression and sorrow does happiness arise; without the despair of loss, there is no hope.

Sometimes I wonder why I'm a novelist right now. There is no definite career reason why I became a writer. Something happened, and I became a writer. And now I'm a successful writer.

My point is: in this whole wide world the only person you can depend on is you.

Spend your money on the things money can buy. Spend your time on the things money can’t buy.

They were each like a mirror for the other, reflecting the changes in themselves.

Problem is, once I sit at my desk and put all these down on paper. I realize something vital is missing. It doesn't crystallize - no crystals, just pebbles. And I'm not transported anywhere.

Of course you keep telling yourself there's something to be learned from everything, and growing old shouldn't be that hard. That's the general drift.