It is certainly impossible to imagine forgiving the enemy while their animus remains undefeated.

I think bravery means a different thing to everyone.

The only bad days as a writer are the ones when you are too cowardly or too lazy to sit down at the keyboard and give it everything you have.

My maternal grandmother was in London during the Blitz. Indeed, the man she was dating before she met my grandfather was killed beside her in a cinema, in 1941, when a bomb came through the roof - a tragedy in which she herself was badly wounded.

I think all of us are intrigued to imagine what we as individuals would become, if we were ever tested as hard as that golden generation was.

In my world death will come chasing. In your world it will start whispering in your ear to destroy yourself. I know this because it started whispering to me when I was in the detention center.

We were exiles from reality that summer. We were refugees from ourselves.