Oh how I hate you. I hate you so much it gives me energy. I have to get up early in the morning just to hate you, because there's not enough time in the day! Please GO AWAY!

I quite fancy the 1940s. I like the trams and the trousers.

Paper acts as an eraser on the mind, as soon as you look at what you've written.

Fruit... it's just God showing off. "Look at all the colours I know!"

There's always a host of voices you're inspired by. I love Don DeLillo, and I love Isaac Bashevis Singer, and I love Beckett, and I love Pinter. He's one of the funniest voices in English literature since Dickens.

Adulthood feels like walking around in the desert with a bag over your head, being bumped into by people who rob you as they bore you.

Of course people are angry. Generation upon generation had jobs at steel mills or whatever - things were going on and it looked like it would always be that way. And then there's these cataclysmic changes and people find themselves out on their arse and they're angry and they want answers. But one thing that's for sure is that those answers will not come in the form of Donald J. Trump.