There is a peculiar aesthetic pleasure in constructing the form of a syllabus, or a book of essays, or a course of lectures. Visions and shadows of people and ideas can be arranged and rearranged like stained-glass pieces in a window, or chessmen on a board.

Human beings love stories because they safely show us beginnings, middles and ends.

I acquired a hunger for fairy tales in the dark days of blackout and blitz in the second world war.

I am not an academic who happens to have written a novel. I am a novelist who happens to be quite good academically.

Well, I would hardly say I do write as yet. But I write because I like words. I suppose if I liked stone I might carve. I like words. I like reading. I notice particular words. That sets me off.

It's because I'm a feminist that I can't stand women limiting other women's imaginations. It really makes me angry.

Outside our small safe place flies mystery.