Literature is the product of a strange rain of blood, sweat, semen, and tears.
Reading is more important than writing.
Then he went out without touching anything and put his arm around Ingeborg, and like that, with their arms around each other, they returned to the village while the whole past of the universe fell on their heads.
The world is alive and no living thing has any remedy. That is our fortune.
We're artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don't we?
I'm an educated man, the prisons I know are subtle ones.