O little one, My little one, Come with me, Your life is done. Forget the future, Forget the past. Life is over: Breathe your last.

I was cured in my new infamy of all the tired wisdom of age. I would never weary into that tired state again - -I swore to myself, I would always be this raw, wet child hereafter.

We’re too much ourselves. Afraid of letting go of what we are, in case we are nothing, and holding on so tight, we lose everything else.

I've never worked where it was hard to be gay. Besides, being gay is a spectacular irrelevance to getting on with your life.

My imagination is my polestar; I steer by that.

I'm a great dog fanatic. My own dog died a little while ago and I take it very personally when things die-it's a major offence.

That which is imagined can never be lost.