As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard. (...) You don't pick out the rain that soaks you to the skin when you come out of a concert.

Time is born in the eyes, everybody knows that.

Happy was she who could believe without seeing, who was at one with the duration and continuity of life.

All profound distraction opens certain doors. You have to allow yourself to be distracted when you are unable to concentrate.

When one wants to write, one writes. If one is condemned to write, one writes.

The fantastic breaks the crust of appearance … something grabs us by the shoulders to throw us outside ourselves. I have always known that the big surprises await us where we have learned to be surprised by nothing, that is, where we are not shocked by ruptures in the order.

The unusual is only found in a very small percentage, except in literary creations, and that is exactly what makes literature.