Words like passion and ecstasy, we learn them but they stay flat on the page. Sometimes we try to turn them over, find out what's on the other side, and everyone has a story to tell os a woman or a brothel or an opium night or a war. We fear it. We fear passion and laugh at too much love and those who love too much.

Part broken - part whole, you begin again. ( from 'Why books seem shockproof against change.' THE TIMES: BOOKS)

The truth is that love smashes into your life like an ice floe, and even if your heart is built like the Titanic you go down.

She was a monster, but she was my monster.

More than sex. More than money. You know, life is not endless is it? Cash, cars, cocaine, and girls. It's more than that. And there is a spiritual dimension to people...we are driven to want something more.

In the space between chaos and shape there was another chance.

Nobody knows anything about Shakespeare the person. It's all legend, it is all rumor.