In reality, the monotheist texts preach neither peace, love nor tolerance. They are texts of hate.

Why am I popular? I don't know. Is it a mistake? I should think it's a mistake somewhere.

Now abideth beauty, truth, and intensity; but the greatest of these is intensity.

I'd say that the question whether love still exists plays the same role in my novels as the question of God's existence in Dostoevsky.

Beds last on an average much longer than marriages.

I admit that invective is one of my pleasures. This only brings me problems in life, but that's it. I attack, I insult. I have a gift for that, for insults, for provocation. So I am tempted to use it.

In order to pass the time I told him the story of the German who ate the other German whom he’d met on the internet.