Bokelskere.no

What we were at the beginning is only a vague patch of colour contemplated from the edge of what we have become.

A lot of people hate moving; some people think it can shorten your life. But first of all, I love the word—in Italian, trasloco, or “across a place”—which makes me think of the momentum needed for a leap forward, a gathering of energy that propels you towards another place, where there is everything to discover and learn.

Laughter is a short, very short, sigh of relief.

There is no before of which we are the after. All literature, great or small, is in that sense contemporary: it crowds around us as we write; it’s the air we breathe.

Do men learn from women? Often. Do they admit it publicly? Rarely, even today.