“The central fact of my life has been the existence of words and the possibility of weaving those words into poetry.”

I never reread what I’ve written. I’m far too afraid to feel ashamed of what I’ve done.

I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.

One concept corrupts and confuses the others. I am not speaking of the Evil whose limited sphere is ethics; I am speaking of the infinite.

I cannot walk through the suburbs in the solitude of the night without thinking that the night pleases us because it suppresses idle details, just as our memory does.

Art is endless like a river flowing, passing, yet remaining.

I had always thought of Paradise / In form and image as a library.

Death is just infinity closing in.

A writer should have another lifetime to see if he’s appreciated.

For me, beauty is a physical sensation, something we feel with our whole body. It is not the result of judgement. We do not arrive at it by way of rules. We either feel beauty or we don’t.

The original is unfaithful to the translation.

Every novel is an ideal plane inserted into the realm of reality.

The Falklands thing was a fight between two bald men over a comb.

A system is nothing more than the subordination of all aspects of the universe to any one of such aspects.

A writer’s work is the product of laziness.

Poets, like the blind, can see in the dark.

It is clear that there is no classification of the Universe that is not arbitrary and full of conjectures. The reason for this is very simple: we do not know what kind of thing the universe is.

When the saint ceases to seek after holiness, purity, righteousness, truth; when he ceases to pray, stops reading the Word and gives way to carnal appetites, then it is that Satan comes.

Nothing in the world glorifies God so much as simple rest of faith in what God’s Word says.

Ever since third grade, I had a notebook and was putting together words just for fun.

The living Word is able to destroy Satanic forces.

I have been defeated; in Christ, I am already victorious. How meaningful are the words, “in Christ.”

So too Plato was, in my view, a very unreliable Platonist. He was too much of a philosopher to think that anything he had said was the last word.

Philosophy is an odd thing. When we use the word in everyday speech, you know, you sometimes hear it hilariously.

If you want to prove yourself to God, improve yourself. Words of guidance are so simple, yet so deep – anybody can win, if he be the soul entry. Unfortunately, in every field.