A story lives transformed by a gesture not made or a word not spoken

Screenwriting is an opportunity to fly first class, be treated like a celebrity, sit around the pool and be betrayed.

It was common enough, to see so much death and want a child. Common, therefore human, and he wanted it all the more. When the wounded were screaming, you dreamed of sharing a little house somewhere, of an ordinary life, a family line, connection.

He knew these last lines by heart and mouthed them now in the darkness. My reason for life. Not living, but life. That was the touch. And she was his reason for life, and why he must survive.

If life was a dream, then dying must be the moment when you woke up. It was so simple it must be true. You died, the dream was over, you woke up. That's what people meant when they talked about going to heaven. It was like waking up.

By measuring individual human worth, the novelist reveals the full enormity of the State

The luxury of being half-asleep, exploring the fringes of psychosis in safety.