All makers must leave room for acts of the spirit.

Alone, no one wins freedom.

Life rises out of death, death rises out of life; in being opposite they yearn to each other, they give birth to each other and are forever reborn. And with them, all is reborn, the flower of the apple tree, the light of the stars. In life is death. In death is rebirth. What then is life without death? Life unchanging, everlasting, eternal?-What is it but death-death without rebirth?

We like to think we live in daylight, but half the world is always dark, and fantasy, like poetry, speaks the language of the night.

As a writer, you are free.

Grieving, like being blind, is a strange business; you have to learn how to do it. We seek company in mourning, but after the early bursts of tears, after the praises have been spoken, and the good days remembered, and the lament cried, and the grave closed, there is no company in grief. It is a burden borne alone.

To oppose something is to maintain it... You must go somewhere else; you must have another goal; then you walk a different road.