There Is No Limit To Suffering.

I Would Like To Explode, Flow, Crumble Into Dust, And My Disintegration Would Be My Masterpiece.

Life Inspires More Dread Than Death - It Is Life Which Is The Great Unknown.

Our Place Is Somewhere Between Being And Nonbeing - Between Two Fictions.

The Capital Phenomenon, The Most Catastrophic Disaster, Is Uninterrupted Sleeplessness, That Nothingness Without Release.

What Necessity Impels A Writer Who Has Produced Fifty Books To Write Still One More? Why This Proliferation, This Fear Of Being Forgotten, This Debased Coquetry?