Pursued By Our Origins... We All Are.

Write Books Only If You Are Going To Say In Them The Things You Would Never Dare Confide To Anyone.

One Hardly Saves A World Without Ruling It.

Sometimes I Wish I Were A Cannibal – Less For The Pleasure Of Eating Someone Than For The Pleasure Of Vomiting Him.

We Interest Others By The Misfortune We Spread Around Us.

The Fear Of Your Own Solitude, Of Its Vast Surface And Its Infinity… Remorse Is The Voice Of Solitude. And What Does This Whispering Voice Say? Everything In Us That Is Not Human Anymore.