The people I see from my window. In the huts, in the distance. They're all dressed the same.' 'Ah, those people,' said Father, nodding his head and smiling slightly. 'Those people...well, they're not people at all, Bruno.' Bruno frowned. 'They're not?' he asked, unsure what Father meant by that.

I think i'm just breathing, that's all. And there's a difference between breathing and being alive.

The dot that became a speck that became a blob that became a figure that became a boy

But still there are moments when a brother and sister can lay down their instruments of torture for a moment and speak as civilized human beings and Bruno decided to make this one of those moments.

It's not easy making a living as a writer, and for many years I worked at a Waterstones in Dublin. It was a good environment for an aspiring writer, with lots of events and authors appearing.

There's things that happen in a person's life that are so scorched in the memory and burned into the heart that there's no forgetting them.

Sitting around miserable all day won't make you any happier.