Happy is he who can give himself up.

I was suffering from a peculiar and persistent sense that I was being pursued, and also the conviction that under the political order of the times, our lives had no meaning.

If life has no meaning, why don't we create a meaning for it?

When you spend time with your friends, what do you talk about? Those things which made an impression on you that day, that week ... I write stories the same way. Events at home, in school, at work, in the street, these are the bases for a story. Some experiences leave such a deep impression that instead of talking about them at the club I work them into a novel.

Freedom of expression must be considered sacred and thought can only be corrected by counter thought.

I was a government employee in the morning and a writer in the evening.

The calendar has a magic that makes us imagine a memory can be resurrected and revived, but nothing returns.