After each of his books, the writer, for a while, feels once again that he can now die happy.

Unlike wealth, there is an infinite value in legacy.

Your love is as stable as you are: It's not about how good a person makes you feel, but rather what good you can do for them.

Like most arts, the link between the mind and the pen can chain you like an enslaved workaholic. Even on an intended vacation you suddenly have this killer urge to record whatever the vacation may teach.

The idea that all souls are mortal is the only notion surely terminating love and all its forms.

I have a thing for things that last.