Everyday brought me further away from other people, I had been placed out of the world's sight, as if in a cupboard, and I hoped it would stay that way. I developed a yearning for being alone, unkempt, untended.

Suffering doesn't improve human beings, does it?

When we don't speak, said Edgar, we become unbearable, and when we do, we make fools of ourselves.

To combat death you don't need much of a life, just one that isn't yet finished.

Women always need other women to lean on. They become friends in order to hate each other better. The more they hate each other, the more inseparable they become.

If you live with death threats, you need friends. So you have to risk that they might spy on you.

Anything in literature, including memory, is second-hand.