How we are almost nothing. We think, in our youth, we are the centre of the universe, but we simply respond, go this way or that by accident, survive or improve by the luck of the draw, with little choice or determination on our part.

Half a page--and the morning is already ancient.

A man in a desert can hold absence in his cupped hands, knowing it is something that feeds him more than water.

Some events take a lifetime to reveal their damage and influence.

How does this happen? To fall in love and be disassembled.

This was the time in her life that she fell upon books as the only door out of her cell. They became half her world.

Politically I don't believe anymore that we can only have one voice to a story, it's like having one radio station to represent a country.