The way to write a book is to actually write a book. A pen is useful, typing is also good. Keep putting words on the page.

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.

People do not change, they are merely revealed.

There are about as many ways to be dead as there are to be alive. People linger in different ways, both publicly and privately.

And what amazes me as I hit the motorway is not the fact that everyone loses someone, but that everyone loves someone. It seems like such a massive waste of energy -- and we all do it, all the people beetling along between the white lines, merging, converging, overtaking. We each love someone, even though they will die. And we keep loving them, even when they are not there to love any more. And there is no logic or use to any of this, that I can see.

No woman that I know is capable of leaving her child down for thirty seconds. She can't walk away without making sure that everything is absolutely as secure and safe for her child as can be.

In more static societies, like Ireland, you can tell where a person is from by their surname, or where their grandparents are from.