Dreamworlds can maintain themselves only as glimpses. Once the writer transports the reader across the threshold, nothing that was promised can be delivered. What was ominous becomes ordinary; what was bizarre, quotidian. Unless you simply keep upping the ante, piling on the bullshit, the only way to revive things is to switch perspectives as quickly as you can.

Happiness and beauty are the worst things you can have in a life, because you never forget them. They go on and on ambushing you, presumably until you die.

Identity is not negotiable. An identity you have achieved by agreement is always a prison.

Stories pass the experienced world back and forth between them as a metaphor, until it is worn out. Only then do we realize that meaning is an act. We must repossess it, instant to instant in our lives.

Writings like gambling. Unpredictable and sporadic successes make you more addicted, not less.

Everyone loves a mysterious country.

Manufacture dooms in your head and you will go mad. Reality is incontravertible. Also, it will not be anticipated.