“I dalje verujem da Sunce izlazi svakoga dana i da svako novo Sunce najavljuje novi dan;dan koji je jue bio budunost. I dalje verujem da e dananji dan, u trenutku zatvaranja jedne stranice vremena, ...”

“The contract between the author and the reader is a game. And the game . . . is one of the greatest invetions of Western civilization: the game of telling stories, inventing characters, and creatin...”

“One wants to tell a story, like Scheherezade, in order not to die. It's one of the oldest urges in mankind. It's a way of stalling death.”

“Cristo quera a los justos, habitaba las buenas conciencias, perteneca a los hombres de bien, a la gente decente, a las buenas reputaciones. Que cargara el diablo con los humildes, con los pecadores...”

“The novel is the privileged vehicle of two ways of being: narrative and freedom: to be new (novel) in a speech open to all, and to be free in a speech that never concludes.”

“Don't classify me, read me. I'm a writer, not a genre.”

“Our approach to reality, our sense of reality, cannot assume that the text of nature, the book of life, is a cryptogram concealing just a single meaning. Rather, it is an expanding riddle of a mult...”

“By viewing images we cast onto outer reality as mirror reflections of inner reality, we come to know ourselves.”

“I would willingly pass my life writing and re-writing the same book - that one book every writer carries within him - the image of his own soul.”

“We were talking of DRAGONS, Tolkien and I In a Berkshire bar. The big workman Who had sat silent and sucked his pipe All the evening, from his empty mug With gleaming eye glanced towards us: "I see...”

“A myth... is a metaphor for a mystery beyond human comprehension. It is a comparison that helps us understand, by analogy, some aspect of our mysterious selves. A myth, in this way of thinking, is ...”

“All that we call sacred history attests that the birth of a poet is the principal event in chronology.”

“All words are pegs to hang ideas on.”

“A word is not the same with one writer as it is with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket.”

“No doubt I shall go on writing, stumbling across tundras of unmeaning, planting words like bloody flags in my wake....”