The sky grew darker, painted blue on blue, one stroke at a time, into deeper and deeper shades of night.

All you have to do is wait,” I explained. “Sit tight and wait for the right moment. Not try to change anything by force, just watch the drift of things. Make an effort to cast a fair eye on everything. If you do that, you just naturally know what to do. But everyone’s always too busy. They’re too talented, their schedules are too full. They’re too interested in themselves to think about what’s fair.

The world is an inherently unfair place.

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.

I couldn't tell wether the hole that opened up inside me was from missing you or from the change of season

You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you.

Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?