As the end of the what is called the 'sexual life' the only love which has lasted is the love which has everything, every disappointment, every failure and every betrayal, which has accepted even the sad fact that in the end there is no desire so deep as the simple desire for companionship.

At one with the One, it didn't mean a thing besides a glass of Guinness on a sunny day.

Grief and disappointment are like hate: they make men ugly with self-pity and bitterness. And how selfish they make us too.

Media is just a word that has come to mean bad journalism.

An autobiography is only 'a sort of life' - it may contain less errors of fact than a biography, but it is of necessity even more selective: it begins later and it ends prematurely.

The problem of pretending to be alive.

So it always is: when you escape to a desert the silence shouts in your ear.