The less manifest the work, the stronger: as though a secret law demanded it always be hidden in what it shows, thus showing what must remain hidden, only showing it, in the end, by dissimulation.

Express only that which cannot be expressed. Leave it unexpressed)

A story? No. No stories, never again.

But my silence is real. If I hid it from you, you would find it again a little farther on.

The disaster ruins everything, all the while leaving everything intact.

The disaster... is what escapes the very possibility of experience—it is the limit of writing. This must be repeated: the disaster de-scribes.

To see was terrifying, and to stop seeing tore me apart from my forehead to my throat.

If nothing were substituted for everything, it would still be too much and too little.

Weak thoughts, weak desires: he felt their force.

Lovers of painting and lovers of music are people who openly display their preference like a delectable ailment that isolates them and makes them proud.

A writer never reads his work. For him, it is the unreadable, a secret, and he cannot remain face to face with it. A secret, because he is separated from it.

A Man's management of his own purse speaks volumes about character

Who knows nothing base Fears nothing known.

Clary," he whispered. There was a thump, and she realized he had fallen to his kees by the side of her bed. She didn't move, but her body tightened. His voice was a whisper. "Clary, it's me. It's me.

The truly fashionable are beyond fashion.

Anger is an integrity-producing response to the invasion of your personal boundaries.

Problems are not problems at all, but results that are dissatisfying.

Hats make people feel good, and that's the point of them.

I think it's great when stories are dark and strange and weirdly personal.

Of course, the entire effort is to put myself Outside the ordinary range Of what are called statistics. A hundred are killed In the outer suburbs. Well, well, I carry on.

When I am at my limit and hurting, I focus on the moment.