All writers behave badly. All people behave badly.

All the people I have written about remain with me - perhaps they are my closest friends.

The young Dickens was so alive, so self-confident, so funny.

Everybody is vulnerable through love of their children. Hostages to fortune.

As he approached his 28th birthday in February 1840, Dickens knew himself to be famous, successful and tired. He needed a rest, and he made up his mind to keep the year free of the pressure of producing monthly installments of yet another long novel.

By the time I went up to Cambridge, I was extremely quiet and well behaved, although I now meet people who remember me as not like that at all.

I enjoyed the whole process of learning and was always happy when autumn came and school or college started up again.