“The Vazdru do not weep.""Who weeps? Not I.""Every word spoken was a tear.”

“Les Vazdru ne pleurent pas.- Chaque parole prononcée fut une larme.”

“She could not mourn. She could no longer weep grasping the essence of annihilation, she wished only to cease, to be no more, as if sunk in some profound sleep devoid of wakening.”

“Madness. I did not get myself born to die. I have better things to do.”

“He sat by her, watching every gesture she made, as if he would paint her portrait afterward.”

“When I write, I go to live inside the book. By which I mean, mentally I can experience everything I’m writing about. I can see it, hear its sounds, feel its heat or rain. The characters become better known to me than the closest family or friends. This makes the writing-down part very simple most of the time. I only need to describe what’s already there in front of me. That said, it won’t be a surprise if I add that the imagined worlds quickly become entangled with the so-called reality of this one.Since I write almost every day, and I think (and dream) constantly about my work, it occurs to me I must spend more time in all these places than here.”

“The kind of teacher who never learned anything herself. Or taught anything, except sarcasm or fear.”