I say, “I’m going to write this book,” and now I sit down and I start sorting out chapters and imagining the book and saying, “Tonight, I think that tomorrow I will write such and such.” I go to sleep. I wake up in the morning. I go to my table. I take the pen and something totally different comes out, which means that perhaps dreams are dictating part of your writing life in a very mysterious way. You have silly dreams. We all have silly dreams. We are naked on the street. How terrible! We fall off a roof. We’re drowning in the sea. Those are the dreams you remember. But what about the dreams you don’t remember? I think these are the really important dreams in your life, the underground dreams, the subterranean dreams that come out somehow in your life, and in my case, through literature. Because I can’t explain otherwise why I write certain things I have never thought about before. And always on the day after a dreaming night.