You wouldn’t believe how much harder it’s getting for me to just leave my studio. It’s really sad. In fact these days the only thing that gets me outside is when I say: Fuck. Fuck....

Write what you love. Love will hold you through the hard times and hold the world during the good times.

I do not know anything about Art with a capital A. What I do know about is my art. Because it concerns me. I do not speak for others. So I do not speak for...

At the breakfast table we are footnoting everything that we read. We don’t recognise it as such but we encounter an article in the newspaper and then suddenly we recall that a friend had a...

Do not wake me from this slumber, but be assured that just as I have wept much, I have also wandered many roads with my thoughts.

At the heart of any terror is the fear of losing what we find meaningful.

I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. No one ever really gets used to nightmares.

What is boredom? Endless repetitions, like, for example, Navidson’s corridors and rooms, which are consistently devoid of any Myst-like discoveries thus causing us to lose interest. What then makes anything exciting? Or better yet: what...

Here then at long last is my darkness. No cry of light, no glimmer, not even the faintest shard of hope to break free across the hold.

Literature is capable of being a subject that people want to catch up on or discuss, whether at a coffee shop or a watercooler. It can become an intrinsic part of their dialogue.

I must read. I must read.I must read.

Physics depends on a universe infinitely centred on an equals sign.

And where there is no Echo there is no description of space or love. There is only silence.

Even the closest relationships that I have I know could potentially fall away. That’s not to speak pessimistically or negatively about those relationships. In a weird way, it’s the opposite. I value them.

In the end Navidson is left with one page and one match. For a long time he waits in darkness and cold, postponing this final bit of illumination. At last though, he grips the match...

Youth always tries to fill the void, an old man learns to live with it.

The greatest of love letters are always coded for the one and not the many.

I believe the structure of ‘House of Leaves’ is far more difficult to explain than it is to read. And while I’d like to lay claim to some extraordinary act of originality, truth is I’m...

Two kisses in one kiss was all it took, a comfort, a warmth, perhaps temporary, perhaps false, but reassuring nonetheless, and mine, and theirs, ours, all three of us giggling, insane giggles and laughter with...

I think that’s what finally stopped me. I slid right to the edge. My legs were hanging over. And I could feel it too. I don’t know how. There was no wind, no sound, no...

Even the brightest magnesium flare can do little against such dark except blind the eyes of the one holding it. Thus one craves what by seeing one has in fact not seen.

Anger is one way to respond to fear. I say one way because responses are categorically multiple.

Noli me tangere,noli me legere,noli me videre,noli me

My dear girl, is it that you are so lonely that you had to create this?

Of course there always will be darkness but I realize now something inhabits it. Historical or not. Sometimes it seems like a cat, the panther with its moon mad gait or a tiger with stripes...

‘House of Leaves’ is certainly about the unsettling nature of fear – and it was my aim to address that – but it’s also about recovering from fear.

the seriousness of emotional deprivation:It is not difficult to understand how children who have suffered from malnutrition or starvation need food and plenty of care in their bodies are to recover so they can go...

Quick note here: if this crush-slash-swooning stuff is hard for you to stomach; if you’ve never had a similar experience, then you should come to grips with the fact that you’ve got a TV dinner...

Darkness is impossible to remember. Consequently cavers desire to return to those unseen depths where they have just been. It is an addiction. No one is ever satisfied. Darkness never satisfies. Especially if it takes...

…and there you have it, another body on the floor surrounded by things that don’t mean much to anyone except to the one who can’t take any of them along.

I’m a big believer in big books, and that doesn’t necessarily mean long books.

Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does...

Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila.

Maturity, one discovers, has everything to do with the acceptance of ‘not knowing.

Make no mistake, those who write long books have nothing to say.Of course those who write short books have even less to say.

I’m not independently wealthy.

Beautiful women are always drawn to men they think will keep them beautiful.

I want something else. I’m not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it’s drenched in sunlight and it’s weightless and I know it’s not cheap. It’s probably...

I went outside. Tried taking in the billions of stars above, lingering long enough to allow each point of light the chance to scratch a deep hole in the back of my retina, so that...

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you’ll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You’ll...

My interest is in how meaning is communicated via language, and I believe the shape, positioning, even the color of the language has an effect on meaning.

Your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace constellations. You’ll care only about the darkness and you’ll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in...

Her smile, I’m sure, burnt Rome to the ground.

Sometimes it’s just silent…No sound at all.’Does that scare you?’Chad nods. ‘Why?’ asks his father.’It’s like something’s waiting.

‘Lord of the Rings’ was a set of books in which the world had been conceived before the characters were placed within that context.