I have read all my novels that were translated into English. Reading my novels is enjoyable because I forget almost all the content in them.

But if you knew you might not be able to see it again tomorrow, everything would suddenly become special and precious, wouldn’t it?

I’m just kinda tired. Like a monkey in the rain.

No matter what the situation may be, I still take pleasure in witnessing the joy of others.

What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously.

Animals that not only move by their own free will and share feelings with people but also possess sight and hearing qualify as deserving of names.

I closed my eyes and listened carefully for the descendants of Sputnik, even now circling the earth, gravity their only tie to the planet. Lonely metal souls in the unimpeded darkness of space, they meet, pass each other, and part, never to meet again. No words passing between them. No promises to keep.