Never but the one matter. The dead and gone. The dying and going. From the word go.

To find a form that accommodates the shape of the mess, that is the task of the artist now.

Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.

No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.

I know those little phrases that seem so innocuous, and, once you let them in, pollute the whole of speech. 'Nothing is more real than nothing.' They rise up out of the pit and know no rest until they drag you down into its dark.

What can it matter to me, that I succeed or fail ? The undertaking is none of mine, if they want me to succeed I'll fail, and vice versa, so as not to be rid of my tormentors.

Success and failure on the public level never mattered much to me, in fact I feel more at home with the latter, having breathed deep of its vivifying air all my writing life up to the last couple of years.