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

Men are all the same, they think that because they came out of the belly of a woman they know all there is to know about women.

That is the dream of all novelists-that one of their characters will become 'somebody.'

It is not pornography that is obscene, it is hunger that is obscene.

We are finally living in Plato's cave, if we consider how those who were imprisoned within the cave - who could do nothing but watch those shadows passing on the back wall - were convinced that those shadows were their one and only reality. I see a profound similarity to all this in the epoch we're now living in. We no longer live simply through images: we live through images that don't even exist, which are the result not of physical projection but of pure virtuality.

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.

...you have to leave the island in order to see the island, that we can't see ourselves unless we become free of ourselves, Unless we escape from ourselves you mean, No, that's not the same thing.