Because today we live in a society in which spurious realities are manufactured by the media, by governments, by big corporations, by religious groups, political groups... So I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes, universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing.

How much of what we call 'reality' is actually out there or rather within our own head?

There is no route out of the maze. The maze shifts as you move through it, because it is alive.

It's easy to win. Anybody can win.

Truth, she thought. As terrible as death. But harder to find.

In a society of criminals, the innocent man goes to jail.

How'd you like to gaze at a beer can throughout eternity? It might not be so bad. There'd be nothing to fear.