People unconsciously want to reveal their inner urges.

Life is a continuous cycle of once-terrifying things becoming normal.

Sometimes fiction is more easily understood than true events. Reality is often pathetic.

People unconsciously want to reveal their inner urges.

And still everything’s the same, even though I did my best to get as far away as I could.

Novels are food for the leftover hours of life, the in-between times, the moments of waiting.

A revolution cannot progress without the fuel of terror. With time that relationship inverts: the revolution presses forward for the sake of terror. Like an artist, the man creating terror should be detached, cold-blooded. He must keep in mind that the energy of the terror he releases can consume him.