Everything moves, and everything moves to a rhythm. And everything that moves to a rhythm creates a sound. At this moment, the same thing is happening here and everywhere else in the world.
There is no sin but the lack of love.
Everything is possible, from angels to demons to economists and politicians.
I’ve done everything I wanted to do, even if I have had to pay a very high price – which has been the case most of the time.
MySpace is an addiction.
Writers are lampposts and critics are dogs. Ask lampposts what they think about dogs. Does the dog hurt the lamppost?
Twitter is my bar. I sit at the counter and listen to the conversations, starting others, feeling the atmosphere.
I’d have stopped writing years ago if it were for the money.
The good old days, when each idea had an owner, are gone forever.
Today, writers want to impress other writers.
I was arrested three times and tortured once.
I’m modern because I make the difficult seem easy, and so I can communicate with the whole world.
Most of my young years were spent under the boots of the military.
There is an afterlife. I am convinced of this.
I don’t go to parties in general.
I had this dream to become a writer since I was a teenager.
Everything for me is sacred, beginning with earth, but also going to things made by man.
In the United States, I am a great success, but I am not a celebrity.
Publishing is in a kind of Jurassic age.
I was not encouraged to follow the career of a writer because my parents thought that I was going to starve to death. They thought nobody can make a living from being a writer in Brazil. They were not wrong.