Not many people can boast a photo of their grandmother posing for kiddiporn.

And, indeed, is there not something holy about a great kitchen?... The scoured gleam of row upon row of metal vessels dangling from hooks or reposing on their shelves till needed with the air of so many chalices waiting for the celebration of the sacrament of food. And the range like an altar, yes, before which my mother bowed in perpetual homage, a fringe of sweat upon her upper lip and the fire glowing in her cheeks.

A day without an argument is like an egg without salt.

Hope for the best, expect the worst.

I will tell you what Jeanne was like. She was like a piano in a country where everyone has had their hands cut off.

You were the living image of the entire Platonic shadow show, an illusion that could fill my emptiness with marvellous, imaginary things as long as, just as long as, the movie lasted, and then all would all vanish.

There are lots of things that you can brush under the carpet about yourself until you're faced with somebody whose needs won't be put off.