I go back to the reading room, where I sink down in the sofa and into the world of The Arabian Nights. Slowly, like a movie fadeout, the real world evaporates. I'm alone, inside the world of the story. My favourite feeling in the world.

Potentiality knocks on the door of my heart. [On Seeing The 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning ]

Then when dusk began to settle he would retrace his steps, back to his own world. And on the way home, a loneliness would always claim his heart. He could never quite get a grip on what it was. It just seemed that whatever lay waiting "out there" was all too vast, too overwhelming for him to possibly ever make a dent in.

Adults need more complex narratives. They have their own narratives. The main characters are themselves.

Mental acuity was never born from comfortable circumstances.

Time moves in it special way in the middle of the night.

I didn't read so much Japanese literature. Because my father was a teacher of Japanese literature, I just wanted to do something else.