Writing is the product of a deeply disturbed psyche, and by no means therapeutic.

She said the reason that love is so painful is that it always amounts to two people wanting more than two people can give.

Later as the day cools and they have gone in, the cry of the corncrake will carry across those same fields and over the lake to the blue-hazed mountain, such a lonely evening sound to it, like the lonely evening sound of the mothers, saying it is not our fault that we weep so, it is nature's fault that makes us first full, then empty.

...people liking you or not liking you is an accident and is to do with them and not you. That goes for love too, only more so.

Kindness. The most unkind thing of all.

I'm an Irish Catholic and I have a long iceberg of guilt.

fear is a dreadful drawback because it stops us living in the moment.