I realized that the longing for art, like the longing for love, is a malady that blinds us, and makes us forget the things we already know, obscuring reality.
Orhan PamukI think perhaps it is a generational thing. I talk to younger people and they say, Where is this melancholy city you talk about My Istanbul is a sunny place.
Orhan PamukAfter all, isn't the purpose of the novel, or of a museum, for that matter, to relate our memories with such sincerity as to transform individual happiness into a happiness all can share?
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 Pamuk