“Every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.”
" - Da li je greh sanjati?
- Nije. Nikada nije ni bio.
- Zašto nam onda božanstvo zadaje toliko jake udarce realnosti?
- Božanstvo ne uništava snove. Mi smo ti koji čekamo, umesto da uradimo nešto da ih ostvarimo. "