It Makes Me Realise That The Fantasy

Even Bad Books Are Books And Therefore Sacred.

Melancholy And Utopia Are Heads And Tails Of The Same Coin.

I Wept When The Muse Ulla Bent Over Me. Blinded By Tears I Could Not Prevent Her From Kissing Me, I Could Not Prevent The Muse From Giving Me That Terrible Kiss. All Of You Who Have Ever Been Kissed By The Muse Will Surely Understand That Oskar, Once Branded By That Kiss, Was Condemned To Take Back The Drum He Had Rejected Years Before, The Drum He Had Buried In The Sand Of Sapse Cemetery.

I Am Not Faithful But I Am Attached.

I Don't Believe In Writing At Night Because It Comes Too Easily. When I Read It In The Morning It's Not Good. I Need Daylight To Begin. Between Nine And Ten O'clock I Have A Long Breakfast With Reading And Music.