I think of rivers, of tides. Forests and water gushing out. Rain and lightning. Rocks and shadows. All of these are in me.

For a while" is a phrase whose length can't be measured.At least by the person who's waiting.

Taking crazy things seriously is a serious waste of time.

That's gotta be one of the principles behind reality. Accepting things that are hard to comprehend, and leaving them that way.

I contented myself with whiskey, for medicinal purposes. It helped numb my various aches and pains. Not that the alcohol actually reduced the pain; it just gave the pain a life of its own, apart from mine.

Some things in life are too complicated to explain in any language.

A short story I have written long ago would barge into my house in the middle of the night, shake me awake and shout, 'Hey,this is no time for sleeping! You can't forget me, there's still more to write!' Impelled by that voice, I would find myself writing a novel. In this sense, too, my short stories and novels connect inside me in a very natural, organic way.