Cities, like dreams, are built of desires and fears, even though the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules absurd, their perspectives deceptive, and everything conceals another thing.
Every story is nothing more than an endless catastrophe from which we try to emerge as best as possible.
Upon arriving in each new city, the traveler encounters a past of theirs that they didn't know they had: the strangeness of what you are not or no longer possess awaits you at every turn in unfamiliar and unowned places.
The ideal place for me is one where it's most natural to live as a foreigner.
Every choice has its flip side, that is, a resignation, so there is no difference between the act of choosing and the act of resigning.
Reading is finding something that is going to exist.
Melancholy is the sadness that has acquired lightness.
The art of writing stories lies in knowing how to draw from the little that has been understood about life, everything else.
If you build a wall, think about what is left outside!
Unrealized futures are just branches of the past: dry branches.