My Novels Are All Ideas.

In Reality, The Monotheist Texts Preach Neither Peace, Love Nor Tolerance. They Are Texts Of Hate.

Love Binds, And It Binds Forever. Good Binds While Evil Unravels. Separation Is Another Word For Evil; It Is Also Another Word For Deceit.

An Entire Life Spent Reading Would Have Fulfilled My Every Desire; I Already Knew That At The Age Of Seven. The Texture Of The World Is Painful, Inadequate; Unalterable, Or So It Seems To Me. Really, I Believe That An Entire Life Spent Reading Would Have Suited Me Best. Such A Life Has Not Been Granted Me.

Life Is Painful And Disappointing. It Is Useless, Therefore, To Write New Realistic Novels. We Generally Know Where We Stand In Relation To Reality And Don’t Care To Know Any More.

It's A Curious Idea To Reproduce When You Don't Even Like Life.