Just opening your eyes puts you in front of a mirror, psychologically speaking. Garbage in, garbage out. Or rather, garbage goes in, but you never get rid of it. It just lies there turning to dust and slowly wafting a thin layer of grime on to every other object in your brain. Scraping the gunk off is not only a major challenge, but the chief burden of human existence.
from THE WALLCREEPER by Nell Zink


Words that equally support genius and mania:

"I couldn’t talk about it, because the slightest intrusion into the book, the slightest ‘objective’ opinion would have erased everything, of that book. […] The illusion one has—entirely correct—of being the only one to have written what one has…

Man. I need to follow this advice.