The cradle rocks above an abyss, and common sense tells us that our existence is but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness.

Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

My characters are galley slaves.

I think it is all a matter of love.

Curiosity is insubordination in its purest form.

My heart was a hysterical unreliable organ.

I don't want an elderly gentleman from Vienna with an umbrella inflicting his dreams upon me.