Perfection, in anything, is unbearably dull. Myself, I prefer a touch of imperfection.

There was some justice in his pain

I am writing a sequel to The Touch because I want to further explore the Chinese question that I have raised. There will be more about that in a sequel.

Belief doesn't rest on proof or existence...it rests on faith...without faith there is nothing.

My husband says it is very good that I have very tiny feet, because they're easier to get in my mouth.

Each of us has something within us which won't be denied, even if it makes us scream aloud to die. We are what we are, that's all. Like the old Celtic legend of the bird with the thorn in its breast, singing its heart out and dying. Because it has to, its self-knowledge can't affect or change the outcome, can it? Everyone singing his own little song, convinced it's the most wonderful song the world has ever heard. Don't you see? We create our own thorns, and never stop to count the cost. All we can do is suffer the pain, and tell ourselves it was well worth it.

There is no doubt that it is more difficult to read and more difficult to write but I still manage.