I do not plan my fiction any more than I normally plan woodland walks; I follow the path that seems most promising at any given point, not some itinerary decided before entry.

Between skin and skin, there is only light.

In essence the Renaissance was simply the green end of one of civilization's hardest winters.

Art's cruel. You can get away with murder with words. But a picture is like a window straight through to your inmost heart.

Duty is but a pot. It holds whatever is put in it, from the greatest evil to the greatest good.

They're beautiful. But sad.' Everything's sad if you make it so, I said.

No amount of reading and intelligent deduction could supplant the direct experience.