in the end the fallback idea of opening a small bar again never materialized. Sometimes, though, even now, I think how nice it would be to run a little bar somewhere.

I think certain types of processes don’t allow for any variation. If you have to be part of that process, all you can do is transform—or perhaps distort—yourself through that persistent repetition, and make that process a part of your own personality.

I can pinpoint the exact moment when I first thought I could write a novel. It was around one thirty in the afternoon of April 1, 1978.

the energy to focus every day for half a year, or a year, two years. You can compare it to breathing.

It doesn’t matter how old I get, but as long as I continue to live I’ll always discover something new about myself.

My whole world consists of the ground three yards ahead.

I never spoke to her (I’m too shy), and of course don’t even know her name. But seeing her face every morning as I ran was one of life’s small pleasures.

through the act of writing I wanted to sort out what kind of life I’ve led,

Commonplace they might be, but the accumulation of these memories has led to one result: me.