This is not a book in the ordinary sense of the word. No, this is a prolonged insult, a gob of spit in the face of art, a kick in the pants to God, Man, Destiny, Time, Love, Beauty... what you will.

All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.

Things happen or they don't happen, that's all. Nothing is accomplished by sweat and struggle. Nearly everything which we call life is just insomnia, an agony because we've lost the habit of falling asleep. We don't know how to let go. We're like a Jack-in-the-box perched on top of a spring and the more we struggle the harder it is to get back in the box.

Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing.

Greece is the home of the gods; they may have died but their presence still makes itself felt. The gods were of human proportion: they were created out of the human spirit.

The only law which is really lived up to wholeheartedly and with a vengeance is the law of conformity.

Think only what is right there, what is right under your nose to do. It's such a simple thing - that's why people can't do it.