he was still my romantic hero and I was still his living dream

Nothing in the last few years has dazzled me more than Hilary Mantel's 'Wolf Hall,' which blew the top of my head straight off. I've read it three times, and I'm still trying to figure out how she put that magnificent thing together.

Venice is beautiful, but like a Bergman movie is beautiful; you can admire it, but you don't really want to live in it.

As a writer, you always read in two minds: You read as a reader and you enjoy it, and you look at it as a writer, and you just admire the architecture and the construction.

I think another way that you can really harm yourself as an artist is by buying into the mythology that it's really important.

The resting place of the mind is the heart.

As smoking is to the lungs, so is resentment to the soul; even one puff is bad for you.