You like to write. It's the single most important quality for someone who wants to be a writer. But not in itself enough.

What do you think? I'm not a starfish or a pepper tree. I'm a living, breathing human being. Of course I've been in love.

Nobody likes being alone that much. I don't go out of my way to make friends, that's all. It just leads to disappointment.

I think of rivers, of tides. Forests and water gushing out. Rain and lightning. Rocks and shadows. All of these are in me.

Autumn finally arrived. And when it did, I came to a decision. Something had to give: I couldn't keep on living like this.

I love pop culture -- the Rolling Stones, the Doors, David Lynch, things like that. That's why I said I don't like elitism.

Maybe she thought the garbage and rocks in your head were interesting. But finally, garbage is garbage and rocks are rocks.

For a certain kind of person, love begins from something tiny or silly. From something like that or it doesnt begin at all.

Maybe working on the little things as dutifully and honestly as we can is how we stay sane when the world is falling apart.

I'd be smiling and chatting away, and my mind would be floating around somewhere else, like a balloon with a broken string.

Most human activities are predicated on the assumption that life goes on. If you take that premise away, what is there left?

The curious thing about individuals is that their singularity always goes beyond any category or generalization in the book.

If you think about it, an unfair society is a society that makes it possible for you to exploit your abilities to the limit.

I said nothing for a time, just ran my fingertips along the edge of the human-shaped emptiness that had been left inside me.

It's because of you when I'm in bed in the morning that I can wind my spring and tell myself I have to live another good day.

The facts and techniques or whatever they teach you in class isn't going to be veryuseful in the real world, that's for sure.

Some people can work their butts off and never get what they're aiming for while others can get it without any effort at all.

Results aside, the ability to have complete faith in another human being is one of the finest qualities a person can possess.

I never made any plan before writing, however I succeeded. I enjoyed writing with excitement ,"what happen on the next page?"

It's hard to tell the difference between sea and sky, between voyager and sea. Between reality and the workings of the heart.

There are lots of things we never understand, no matter how many years we put on, no matter how much experience we accumulate.

That's gotta be one of the principles behind reality. Accepting things that are hard to comprehend, and leaving them that way.

I've always done whatever I felt like doing in life. People may try to stop me, and convince me I'm wrong, but I won't change.

What I want is for the two of us to meet somewhere by chance one day, like, passing on the street, or getting on the same bus.

I happen to like the strange ones. People who look normal and leads normal lives - they're the ones you have to watch out for.

This uneasiness comes over me from time to time, and I feel as if I've somehow been pieced together from two different puzzles.

I think of myself as more the non-turn-on type. so when I do get turned on, I don’t trust it, I have to investigate the source.

My arm was not what she needed, but the arm of someone else. My warmth was not what she needed, but the warmth of someone else.

Good style happens in one of two ways: the writer either has an inborn talent or is willing to work herself to death to get it.

Everybody thinks I'm this delicate little girl. But you can't tell a book by it's cover.' To which she added a momentary smile.

You can hide as cleverly as you like, but in the final analysis mimicry is deception, pure and simple. It doesn't solve a thing.

Don't you think it would be wonderful to get rid of everything and everybody and just go some place where you don't know a soul?

What do I like about math? , When I've got figures in front of me, it relaxes me. Kind of like, everything fits where it belongs.

You can have tons of talent, but it won't necessarily keep you fed. If you have sharp instincts, through, you'll never go hungry.

She gave me this look – she might have been watching from a lifeboat as the ship went down. Or maybe it was the other way around.

Have your dream...What you need now more than anything is discipline. Cast off mere words. Words turn into stone. (from Thailand)

I want to write about people who dream and wait for the night to end, who long for the light so they can hold the ones they love.

It is the same with anything - you have to learn through your own experience, paying your own way. You can't learn it from a book.

When I'm running I don't have to talk to anybody and don't have to listen to anybody. This is a part of my day I can't do without.

Perhaps I'm just too painstaking a type of person, but I can't grasp much of anything without putting down my thoughts in writing.

Only where there is disillusionment and depression and sorrow does happiness arise; without the despair of loss, there is no hope.

You’re optimistic one moment, only to be racked the next by the certainty that it will all fall to pieces. And in the end it does.

I was thirty-seven then, strapped in my seat as the huge 747 plunged through dense cloud cover on approach to the Hamburg airport.

Whenever I look at the ocean, I always want to talk to people, but when I'm talking to people, I always want to look at the ocean.

sometimes I think I've got this hard kernel in my heart, and nothing much can get inside it. I doubt if I can really love anybody.

I’ve never once thought about how I was going to die,” she said. “I can’t think about it. I don’t even know how I’m going to live.

It's just a feeling I have. What you see with your eyes is not necessarily real. My enemy is, among other things, the me inside me.

Waiting for your answer is one of the most painful things I have ever been through. At least let me know whether or not I hurt you.

But if you knew you might not be able to see it again tomorrow, everything would suddenly become special and precious, wouldn’t it?

In the world we live in, what we know and what we don't know are like Siamese twins, inseparable, existing in a state of confusion.

Share This Page