It is a lonely life sometimes, like throwing a stone into the deep darkness. It might hit something, but you can’t see it. The only thing you can do is to guess, and to believe.

In dreams begins responsiblities.

Lots of different ways to live and lots of different ways to die. But in the end that doesn't make a bit of difference. All that remains is a desert.

Irrepressible curiosity vied with an instinctive fear.

It was as if I were writing letters to hold together the pieces of my crumbling life.

One impossible day, of an impossible month, of an impossible year.

If you try to use your head to think about things, people don't want to have anything to do with you