It seems the only way to write a half decent book is to worry oneself sick on an hourly basis that one is producing a complete disaster.

Do you love me enough that I may be weak with you? Everyone loves strength, but do you love me for my weakness? That is the real test.

There is always the option of being emotionally lazy, that is, of quoting.

Art holds out the promise of inner wholeness.

One of our major flaws, and causes of unhappiness, is that we find it hard to take note of appreciate and be grateful for what is always around us. We suffer because we lose sight of the value of what is before us and yearn, often unfairly, for the imagined attraction elsewhere.

Literature deserves its prestige for one reason above all others - because it's a tool to help us live and die with a little bit more wisdom, goodness, and sanity.

I learnt to stop fantasising about the perfect job or the perfect relationship because that can actually be an excuse for not living.