Justice. . . limps along, but it gets there all the same.

Ultimately, literature is nothing but carpentry. With both you are working with reality, a material just as hard as wood.

Nobody deserves your tears, but whoever deserves them will not make you cry.

Fiction was invented the day Jonas arrived home and told his wife that he was three days late because he had been swallowed by a whale.

No, not rich. I am a poor man with money, which is not the same thing.

He who awaits much can expect little.