"The months before my son was born, I used to yell from night to morn, 'Whatever it is, I'm against it! No matter what it is or who commenced it, I'm against it!'"

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Writing is such a strange, utterly mysterious process. First, there was nothing; then, suddenly, there was something. I don't know where thoughts are born. Where the hell does it come from? I don't know. I really don't know.

— Paul Auster