“I may not care about how I look, but I care that I am heard.”

“The man thinks of multiverses, of splits, of the momentous moments when there is a new reality created. He wonders about retroactive continuity and reboots, the opportunity, in comic books, to start with clean slates, to write fresh, to correct the mistakes that were made. He feels now, looking at the new Shopwise, that it cannot offer the same kind of happiness as Fiesta Carnival, that the rifts and tears in his reality are things he must accept, and that he is happy with the girl, in another multiverse.”

“As a young man, he was already rather pompous and full of himself, concerned with what he would write and with his early (and, later, perennial) hatred of Ireland and the Irish. When he had still written only a few poems, he asked his brother Stanislaus: “Don’t you think there is a certain resemblance between the mystery of the Mass and what I am trying to do? I mean that I am trying in my poems to give people some kind of intellectual pleasure or spiritual enjoyment by converting the bread of daily life into something that has a permanent artistic life of its own…for their mental, moral, and spiritual uplift.” When he was older his comparisons may have been less eucharistic and more modest, but he was always convinced of the extreme importance of his work, even before it existed.”

“I don't belive in God. I believe in...Al Pacino.”

“I have a tendency to want to understand everything people say and everything I hear, both at work and outside, even at a distance, even if it’s one of the innumerable languages I don’t know, even if it’s in an indistinguishable murmur or imperceptible whisper, even if it would be better that I didn’t understand and what’s said is not intended for my ears or is said precisely so I won’t understand it.”

“Jedan par, pomislih, koji zavisi i živi od svojih prepreka; jedan par koji će se rasturiti kad ih ne bude bilo, ako ga pre toga ne rasture te iste, tako zamorne i otegnute prepreke, koje će međutim morati da napajaju i neguju i da nastoje da večno potraju ako ih je već sustigao trenutak kada ne mogu bez ti i ja, ili jedno bez drugog.”

“He (Antonio Machado) was old, weary and ill, and he no longer believed in Franco's defeat. He wrote 'This is the end; any day now Barcelona will fall. For the strategists, for the politicians, for the historians, it is all clear: we have lost the war. But in human terms, I am not so sure. Perhaps we have won.”