This calls for a very special blend of psychology and extreme violence.

No collection of people who are all waiting for the same thing are capable of holding a natural conversation. Even if the thing they are waiting for is only a taxi.

Any closer would unravel her mystery, the very thing which made her so truly beautiful...It was her mystery that he adored. He was in love with everything that he did not know about her... No real sexual encounter could ever match the secret one that he could nurture in his imagination... No living flesh could ever be the erotic equal of flesh kept private, untouchable and unknowable

I resent the creation of a world in which beauty is a reminder of what we're losing rather than a celebration of what we have.

The appropriation of radical thinking by lazy, self-obsessed hippies is a public relations disaster that could cost the earth.

Artists don't create society, they reflect it

My advice to anyone adapting a novel is that once they've read it and learnt to understand it, then they must throw it away and never look at it again!