“Why is a raven like a writing desk?”

“Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?”
“Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again.
“No, I give it up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter”

“Why a raven?"
"To honor my father."
"The writing under it, is that Cyrillic?"
"Yes."
"What does it say?"
"Dar Vorona. Gift of the Raven. I am my father's gift."
"The raven is holding a bloody sword."
"I never said it was a nice gift.”

“My ideas usually come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living.”

“It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn't in the middle of the room. Life isn't a support system for art. It's the other way around.”

“How wonderful it is to be able to write someone a letter! To feel like conveying your thoughts to a person, to sit at your desk and pick up a pen, to put your thoughts into words like this is truly marvelous.”

“Oh, terrific," Dan muttered. "Just what we need. Another code! Why can't people just say what they mean? Why can't they say THE MAP IS IN THE DESK?”

“If you want a room to write in, just get a room. Don't make a big production out of it. If it doesn't leak, has a window, heat in the winter, then put in your desk, bookshelves, a soft chair, and start writing.”

“Writing is a deeper sleep than death.
Just as one wouldn't pull a corpse from its grave,
I can't be dragged from my desk at night.”

“When I stand up from my writing desk, "John Banville", or "Benjamin Black" – that is, the one whose name will appear on the title page – vanishes on the instant, since he only existed while the writing was being done.”