Every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me.

Poetry is the one thing that isn't contaminated, the one thing that isn't part of the game.

No one pays attention to these killings, but the secret of the world is hidden in them.

The pain, or the memory of pain, that here was literally sucked away by something nameless until only a void was left. The knowledge that this question was possible: pain that turns finally into emptiness. The knowledge that the same equation applied to everything, more or less.

The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.

For her, reading was directly linked to pleasure, not to knowledge or enigmas or constructions or verbal labyrinths.

Every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me.