There was a rock in front of my hut, a tall, gray rock. By its looks it seemed to be well-disposed toward me.
Knut HamsunA word can be transformed into a coulour, light, a smell; it is the writer's task to use it in such a way that it serves, never fails, can never be ignored.
Knut HamsunAnd love was creation's source,creation's ruler; but all love's ways are strewn with blossoms and blood, blossoms and blood.
Knut Hamsun