Here was one place where I could find out who I was and what I was going to become. And that was the public library.
Life is a state of mind.
I do not gather things, I prefer to rent them rather than to possess them.
Going around under an umbrella interferes with one's looking up at the sky.
She seemed to belong to that pagan, primitive kingdom of birds and forests where everything was infinitely abundant, wild, blooming, and royal in its perpetual decay, death, and rebirth; illicit and clashing with the human world.
The principles of true art is not to portray, but to evoke.
There's a place beyond words where experience first occurs to which I always want to return. I suspect that whenever I articulate my thoughts or translate my impulses into words, I am betraying the real thoughts and impulses which remain hidden.
I always have a sense of trembling, but so does a compass, after all.
Persons who have been homeless carry within them a certain philosophy of life which makes them apprehensive about ownership.
You don't die in the United States, you underachieve.
When people claim to know who I am, I can no longer act freely.
Take a look at the books other people have in their homes.
The principle of art is to pause, not bypass.
Take whatever you can from others, and when there is nothing left, forget about them.
I write for a certain sphere of readers in the United States who on average watch seven and a half hours of multichannel television per day.
Like nature, our economic system remains, in the long run, stable and rational...We welcome the inevitable seasons of our economy! How foolish of us.
There are many types of participation. One can observe so intensely that one becomes part of the action, but without being an active participant.
The things I write are for those who are willing to accept a new relationship between the reader and the author.
I look back into past history, the stored experiences or products of the imagination. I look no further forward than the evening.
I am inspired by human sexuality. The act itself is mechanical and holds little interest to me.
And really the purpose of art - for me, fiction - is to alert, to indicate to stop, to say: Make certain that when you rush through you will not miss the moment which you might have had, or might still have.
In London, the weather would affect me negatively. I react strongly to light. If it is cloudy and raining, there are clouds and rain in my soul.
Lovers are not snails; they don't have to protrude from their shells and meet each other halfway. Meet me within your own self.
Travel gives me the opportunity to walk through the sectors of cities where one can clearly see the passage of time.
The planned sit-down reception is an artificial forum where one is presented with a limited number of persons with whom he can hold a conversation.
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