I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad.

I tend to admire dead people more than the living. All too often, human reality diminishes the glowing reputation.

There are things in life we don't understand, and when we meet them, all we can do is let them alone.

I have teken refuge in the doctrine that advises one not to seek tranquility in certainty but in permanently suspended judgement.

My novels are often about people who are in love or attracted to each other.

It's true: lives do drift apart for no obvious reason. We're all busy people,we can't spend our time simply trying to stay in touch. The test of a friendship is if it can weather these inevitable gaps.

We never love anyone. Not really. We only love our idea of another person. It is some conception of our own that we love. We love ourselves, in fact.