Between the time the last train leaves and the first train arrives, the place changes: it's not the same as in daytime.

You could be anybody when you're writing. That's the reason that I'm writing: to be anybody. You can put your feet in various shoes and experience anything.

People with dark souls have nothing but dark dreams. People with really dark souls do nothing but dream.

I realize full well how hard it must be to go on living alone in a place from which someone has left you, but there is nothing so cruel in this world as the desolation of having nothing to hope for.

Time is too conceptual. Not that it stops us from filling it in. So much so, we can't even tell whether our experiences belong to time or to the world of physical things.

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.

It's like Tolstoy said. Happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story.