...the Endless Repetition Of An Ordinary Miracle.

A Writer Is Someone Who Spends Years Patiently Trying To Discover The Second Being Inside Him, And The World That Makes Him Who He Is: When I Speak Of Writing, What Comes First To My Mind Is Not A Novel, A Poem, Or Literary Tradition, It Is A Person Who Shuts Himself Up In A Room, Sits Down At A Table, And Alone, Turns Inward; Amid Its Shadows, He Builds A New World With Words.

Great Changes In The Direction Of Peace Have Often Come From People Who Were No Great Advocates Of Peace To Begin With.

We Fall In Love More Deeply When Were Unhappy.

I Need A Moment Of Time For Myself Every Day, Like A Child Playing With His Things. When I Travel, I Routinely Find A Quiet Place, Open My Diary And Write Something In It.

I Identify With My Culture, But I Am Happy To Be Living On A Tolerant, Intellectual Island Where I Can Deal With Dostoyevsky And Sartre, Both Great Influences For Me.