All colors made me happy: even gray. My eyes were such that literally they Took photographs.

The thought, when written down, becomes less oppressive, but some thoughts are like a cancerous tumor: you express is, you excise it, and it grows back worse than before.

We think not in words but in shadows of words.

I do not know if it has ever been noted before that one of the main characteristics of life is discreteness. Unless a film of flesh envelopes us, we die. Man exists only insofar as he is separated from his surroundings. The cranium is a space-traveler's helmet. Stay inside or you perish. Death is divestment, death is communion. It may be wonderful to mix with the landscape, but to do so is the end of the tender ego.

My characters are galley slaves.

And she was mine, she was mine, the key was in my fist, my fist was in my pocket, she was mine.

All religions are based on obsolete terminology.