“A violent act pierces the atmosphere, leaving a hole through which the cold, damp draft of its memory blows forever.”

“Autumn is a fleeting season, melancholy by nature. Its ghostly beauty cultivates a fertile atmosphere for memories that wrote their history on a tablet of fallen leaves - I recall them with the greatest clarity... Whatever else autumn may be, it is the prophet of winter. Winter lasts forever.”

“..Pain isn't felt if its not acknowledged by the tears of emotional heartache.. Pain is cold and tantamount to its consequence, its a wave in the ocean of life.. Pain is bitter sweet.. Pain is the torrent of turmoil which surfaces when the memories we hold onto, just cannot leave through the door of escapism..”

“But even Es and cocaine, over the years they blow holes in your brain, rob you of your memories, your past. Which is fair enough, convenient even.”

“This hospital, like every other, is a hole in the universe through which holiness issues in blasts. It blows both ways, in and out of time.”

“First draft: let it run. Turn all the knobs up to 11. Second draft: hell. Cut it down and cut it into shape. Third draft: comb its nose and blow its hair. I usually find that most of the book will have handed itself to me on that first draft.”