But truths need to be repeated many times so that they don't, poor things, lapse into oblivion.

Such is our need to shower blame on some distant entity when it is we who lack the courage to face up to what is there before us.

I consider books to be good for our health, and also our spirits, and they help us to become poets or scientists, to understand the stars or else to discover them deep within the aspirations of certain characters, those who sometimes, on certain evenings, escape from the pages and walk among us humans, perhaps the most human of us all.

From literature to ecology, from the escape velocity of galaxies to the greenhouse effect, from garbage disposal methods to traffic jams, everything is discussed in our world. But the democratic system, as if it were a given fact, untouchable by nature until the end of time, we don't discuss that.

For me, writing is a job. I do not separate the work from the act of writing like two things that have nothing to do with each other. I arrange words one after another, or one in front of another, to tell a story, to say something that I consider important or useful, or at least important or useful to me. It is nothing more than this.

If I'm sincere today, what does it matter if I regret it tomorrow?

Perhaps it is the language that chooses the writers it needs, making use of them so that each might express a tiny part of what it is.