A Novelist Is A Man Who Doesn't

It Was Night And I Could See A Large And Calm Lake, Reflecting The Moon. Black Mountains Rose Around It. I Arrived From Between Two Of These Mountains, I Looked At The Lake And The Moon, And That Was It, Nothing Else Happened.

If Each One Of Us Could Make Just One Other Happy, The Whole World Would Know Happiness.

I Would Like To Carve My Novel In A Piece Of Wood. My Characters—i Would Like To Have Them Heavier, More Three-dimensional ... My Characters Have A Profession, Have Characteristics; You Know Their Age, Their Family Situation, And Everything. But I Try To Make Each One Of Those Characters Heavy, Like A Statue, And To Be The Brother Of Everybody In The World.

One Of Them, For Example, Which Will Probably Haunt Me More Than Any Other Is The Problem Of Communication.

It Just Happened. As Though A Moment Comes When It's Both Necessary And Natural To Make A Decision That Has Long Since Been Made.