Memory has a heavy backspin, yet it’s still impossible to land exactly where we took off.

We have to admire the world for not ending on us.

He said to me once that most of the time people use the word love as just another way to show off they're hungry. The way he said it went something like: Glorify their appetites.

Everything was fabulous, even our breakdowns.

He didn't like it all that much when he first came - all the rubbish and the rush - but it was growing on him, it wasn't half bad. Coming to the city was like entering a tunnel, he said, and finding to your surprise that the light at the end didn't matter; sometimes in fact the tunnel made the light tolerable.

Part of the beauty of fiction is that we come alive in a body that we don't own.

Yet she likes complications. She wishes she could turn and say: I like people who unbalance me.