After all this, what happened? What happened was that, as soon as I had the slightest chance of a place to hide in, I crept into it and hid. Well, sometimes it's a fine day isn't it? Sometimes the skies are blue. Sometimes the air is light, easy to breathe. And there is always tomorrow.

All of a writer that matters is in the book or books. It is idiotic to be curious about the person.

It's funny, he said, have you ever thought that a girl's clothes cost more than the girl inside them?

It was the darkness that got you. It was heavy darkness, greasy and compelling. It made walls round you, and shut you in so that you felt like you could not breathe.

Would you like a whiskey?' I say. 'I've got some.' (That's original. I bet nobody's ever thought of that way of bridging the gap before.)

I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin, frail ghosts in my room.

You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world.