How flat all sounds are at the seaside, flat and yet emphatic, like the sound of gunshots heard at a distance.
The novel is resilient, and so are novelists.
If they give me the bloody prize, why can't they say nice things about me?
A plot begins when somebody has something to hide.
No two things the same, the equals sign a scandal.
Enormous morning, ponderous, meticulous; gray light streaking each bare branch, each single twig, along one side, making another tree, of glassy veins.