Life is like an overlong drama through which we sit being nagged by the vague memories of having read the reviews.

Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face.

A cynic is a kind of romantic who has aged.

The guarantee that our self enjoys an intended relation to the outer world is most, if not all, we ask from religion. God is the self projected onto reality by our natural and necessary optimism. He is the not-me personified.

I think people do look to writers to tell the truth in a way that nobody else quite will, not politicians or ministers or sociologists. A writer's job, is to, by way of fiction, somehow describe the way we live. And to me, this seems an important task, very worth doing, and I think also, to the reading public, it seems, even though they might not articulate it, it seems to them something worth doing also.

Dreams come true; without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them.

Natural beauty is essentially temporary and sad, hence the impression of obscene mockery which artificial flowers give us.