Writers have to keep on writing if they want to mature, like caterpillars endlessly chewing on leaves.

The little things are important, Mr. Wind-Up Bird.

When I wake up, my pillow’s cold and damp with tears. But tears for what? I have no idea.

It takes years to build up, it takes moments to destroy.

The most dangerous creature here would have to be me. So maybe I'm just scared of my own shadow.

Perhaps most people in the world aren’t trying to be free, Kafka. They just think they are. It’s all an illusion. If they really were set free, most people would be in a real pickle. You’d better remember that. People actually prefer not being free?

How about Proust's In Search of Lost Time?" Tamaru asked. "If you've never read it this would be a good opportunity to read the whole thing." "Have you read it?" "No, I haven't been in jail, or had to hide out for a long time. Someone once said unless you have those kinds of opportunities, you can't read the whole of Proust.