I passionately believe that's it's not just what you say that counts, it's also how you say it - that the success of your argument critically depends on your manner of presenting it.

We read the weird tales in newspapers to crowd out the even weirder stuff inside us.

Our homes do not have to offer us permanent occupancy or store our clothes to merit the name. To speak of home in relation to a building is simply to recognise its harmony with our own prized internal song. Home can be an airport or a library, a garden or a motorway diner.

We are sad at home and blame the weather and the ugliness of the buildings, but on the tropical island we learn that the state of the skies and the appearance of our dwellings can never on their own underwrite our joy nor condemn us to misery.

Let death find us as we are building up our matchstick protests against its waves.

A good half of the art of living is resilience.

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.