I am a trembling mess from hip to knee. There is a terrible heat, a looseness in my innards that makes me want to dig my fists between my thighs. It is a confusing feeling - somewhere between diarrhoea and sex - this grief that is almost genital.

I’m really lucky with the people around me. They know me, so they don’t confuse the issues really. They know what a book is and they know who I am and they know the difference between the two.

I do not believe in evil- I believe that we are human and fallible, that we things and spoil them in an ordinary way.

It is very hard to trace the effect of words on a life.

I think writers worry that you might not exist in some strange way if you're not writing.

I became a full-time writer in 1993 and have been very happy, insofar as anybody is, since.

If you grow up in Ireland and read books then you really are obliged to attempt your own some time. It is not exactly a choice. I still don't know if I am a writer. Believe me, there are days when I have my doubts.