The thorn of death falls from heaven, and its myriad forms leave us no room to move.

Mankind, which has always been a part of nature, has reached a point where it is too much for nature to accommodate.

Year after year students tumble along like the waters of a river. They flow away, and only the teacher is left behind, like some deeply buried rock at the bottom of the current.

Many people ask why a writer commits suicide. But I think that people who ask don't know the vanity and the nothingness of writing. I think it is very usual and natural for a writer to commit suicide, because in order to keep on writing he must be a very strong person.

Do you shovel to survive, or survive to shovel?

The minute you begin to have doubts, the floor under your feet starts to shake.

The most frightening thing in the world is to discover the abnormal in that which is closest to us.