Writers Are The Exorcists Of Their Own

Life Is A Shitstorm, In Which Art Is Our Only Umbrella." (spoken By Character In A Novel By Mario Vargas Llosa)

I Convinced Her That Her First Loyalty Isn't To Other People, But To Her Own Feelings.

Death Isn't Enough. It Doesn't Remove The Stain. But A Slap, A Whiplash, Square On The Face, Does. Because A Man's Face Is As Sacred As His Mother Or His Wife.

It Isn't True That Convicts Live Like Animals: Animals Have More Room To Move Around.

In My Case, Literature Is A Kind Of Revenge. It's Something That Gives Me What Real Life Can't Give Me - All The Adventures, All The Suffering. All The Experiences I Can Only Live In The Imagination, Literature Completes.