- and how time flies! What, has it already been twenty years, already forty years that we are together? Why, how terrible! We haven't yet said all we wanted to say to each other... May we have a little respite, or else may we be allowed to begin all over again!

No one asked you to be happy. Get to work.

I have found my voice again and the art of using it.

By means of an image we are often able to hold on to our lost belongings. But it is the desperateness of losing which picks the flowers of memory, binds the bouquet.

In its early stages, insomnia is almost an oasis in which those who have to think or suffer darkly take refuge.

I love my past, I love my present. I am not ashamed of what I have had, and I am not sad because I no longer have it.

Books, books, books. It was not that I read so much. I read and re-read the same ones. But all of them were necessary to me. Their presence, their smell, the letters of their titles, and the texture of their leather bindings.