Children are knives, my mother once said. They don’t mean to, but they cut. And yet we cling to them, don’t we, we clasp them until the blood flows.

I let it go. It's like swimming against the current. It exhausts you. After a while, whoever you are, you just have to let go, and the river brings you home.

She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world.

I dream a lot, in colour and in sound and scent. Quite a few of my stories have come from dreams.

It's a feeling which tells me that any woman can be beautiful in the eyes of a man who loves her.

The right circumstances sometimes happen of their own accord, slyly, without fanfare, without warning. Layman's alchemy. . . . The magic of everyday things.

I'm incapable of hiding my feelings when I'm around someone I don't like.