Sometimes I would see them not as mementos of the blissful hours but as the tangible precious debris of the storm raging in my soul.
Orhan Pamuk[N]othing is as surprising as life. Except for writing. Except for writing. Yes, of course, except for writing, the only consolation.
Orhan PamukAs always after drinking too much, I felt like my own ghost trying to take it's first solo walk outside the body.
Orhan Pamuk