The measure of artistic merit is the length to which a writer is willing to go in following his own compulsions.

We do survive every moment, after all, except the last one.

Looking foolish does the spirit good. The need not to look foolish is one of youth's many burdens; as we get older we are exempted from more and more.

It is not difficult to deceive the first time, for the deceived possesses no antibodies; unvaccinated by suspicion, she overlooks lateness, accepts absurd excuses, permits the flimsiest patching to repair great rents in the quotidian.

In memory's telephoto lens, far objects are magnified.

Truth should not be forced; it should simply manifest itself, like a woman who has in her privacy reflected and coolly decided to bestow herself upon a certain man.

I want to write books that unlock the traffic jam in everybody's head.