I don't wish to inhabit the human world under false pretences.

Much of living is an attempt to preserve oneself by annexing and occupying others.

Writing an autobiography, usually thought of as a looking back, can just as well be a looking across or through, with the passing of time giving an X-ray quality to the eye.

All writers - all beings - are exiles as a matter of course. The certainty about living is that it is a succession of expulsions of whatever carries the life force...All writers are exiles wherever they live and their work is a lifelong journey towards the lost land.

I must go down to the seas again to find where I buried the hatchet with Yesterday.

Life is hell, but at least there are prizes. Or so one thought.

It is always hard to believe that the will to change something does not produce an immediate change.