Can You Imagine What Bush Would Say

For Me, Writing Is A Job. I Do Not Separate The Work From The Act Of Writing Like Two Things That Have Nothing To Do With Each Other. I Arrange Words One After Another, Or One In Front Of Another, To Tell A Story, To Say Something That I Consider Important Or Useful, Or At Least Important Or Useful To Me. It Is Nothing More Than This.

If I Could Repeat My Childhood, I Would Repeat It Exactly As It Was, With The Poverty, The Cold, Little Food, With The Flies And Pigs, All That.

I Am The Same Person I Was Before Receiving The Nobel Prize. I Work With The Same Regularity, I Have Not Modified My Habits, I Have The Same Friends.

It Is Strange How The Elderly Fall Silent When They Ought To Go On Speaking, Obliging The Young To Learn Everything From Scratch.

Every Novel Is Like This, Desperation, A Frustrated Attempt To Save Something Of The Past. Except That It Still Has Not Been Established Whether It Is The Novel That Prevents Man From Forgetting Himself Or The Impossibility Of Forgetfulness That Makes Him Write Novels.