In dreams begins responsiblities.

Everyone, deep in their hearts, is waiting for the end of the world to come.

"I believe you," she whispers after a moment. "Please find my mind."

Has the dark shadow really disappeared? Or is it inside me, concealed, waiting for its chance to reappear? Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness, and a blind spot. Everywhere you find silent hints, everywhere a surprise is waiting for you.

The rain that fell on the city runs down the dark gutters and empties into the sea without even soaking the ground

Better to be a first-class matchbox than a second-class match.

For novelists or musicians, if they really want to create something, they need to go downstairs and find a passage to get into the second basement. What I want to do is go down there, but still stay sane.