As a writer, I have readers who will have a range of political views. I don't think they look to me for political guidance.

Regular maps have few surprises: their contour lines reveal where the Andes are, and are reasonably clear. More precious, though, are the unpublished maps we make ourselves, of our city, our place, our daily world, our life; those maps of our private world we use every day; here I was happy, in that place I left my coat behind after a party, that is where I met my love; I cried there once, I was heartsore; but felt better round the corner..., things of that sort, our personal memories, that make the private tapestry of our lives.

That my philosophy of life is, as far as possible, one of enjoyment. I'm not nihilistic.

Well, Id say all of us are a combination of moods and emotions. In my day to day life I dont go around skipping, but at times one can feel sheer exhilarating joy at the world.

If your ceiling should fall down, then you have lost a room, but gained a courtyard. Think of it that way.

But don't we often lie to people we love, or not tell them things, precisely because we love them?

A life without stories would be no life at all. And stories bound us, did they not, one to another, the living to the dead, people to animals, people to the land?