Why did I desert Labour? Total bloody disillusionment. The party was a corpse. It had no ideology, it became detached, old, spineless and needed to go.

Let's all pretend to be someone else, and then perhaps we'll find out who we are.

For all the flailing and huffing and puffing, there is a kind of fatality about the process of war-making and the excuses we find for it, the consolation of belligerence in politics.

Love is whatever you can still betray. Betrayal can only happen if you love.

Why did I desert Labour? Total bloody disillusionment. The party was a corpse. It had no ideology, it became detached, old, spineless and needed to go.

I've never been able to write a book without one very strong character in my rucksack.

Unfortunately it is the weak who destroy the strong.