Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow.
...the endless repetition of an ordinary miracle.
Hüzün does not just paralyze the inhabitants of Instanbul, it also gives them poetic license to be paralyzed.
I don't read newspapers in the morning. I take a look at the dailies in the afternoon, but only when I've finished my work for the day. Reading about what is happening in Turkey once again would only be demoralizing for me.
Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight.
I am a highly disciplined person. I get up at seven every morning and, still in my pajamas, sit down at my desk where my checkered ring binders and my fountain pen are ready for use. I try to write two pages every day.