How massively the mountains stand, while low to the ground the sand blows. The sand blows on and on. And then there are no mountains, none at all, the sand has kissed and whispered them away. And still, the sand blows on.

I never know where I am going, though. That is part of what makes it so wonderful. And after all, who does?

People are always the start for meanimals. When I can get into their heads, gods, supernatural beings,immortals, the deadthese are all people to me.

I've been criticised for writing in too complex a manner for younger people.

When I am fascinated by something, I like to play with it.

I'm not very good at being alive. Sometimes I despair of ever mastering it, getting it right. When I'm old, perhaps.

It's very selfish when I write. I'm not aware, ever, of writing for another person; I'm not even really aware of writing for myself.