Death, in the Eastern tradition, was only a passage. What wasn't clear ... was toward what place, what reality, that passage led.

So everything lets us down, including curiosity and honesty and what we love best. Yes, said the voice, but cheer up, it's fun in the end.

Of all the islands he'd visited, two stood out. The island of the past, he said, where the only time was past time and the inhabitants were bored and more or less happy, but where the weight of illusion was so great that the island sank a little deeper into the river every day. And the island of the future, where the only time was the future, and the inhabitants were planners and strivers, such strivers, said Ulises, that they were likely to end up devouring one another.

When people read his books they have an uncontrollable desire to hang the author in the town square. I can’t think of a higher honor for a writer.

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

If you're going to say what you want to say, you're going to hear what you don't want to hear.

We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain.