The world keeps ending but new people too dumb to know it keep showing up as if the fun's just started.

I was made to feel I could do things. If you get this feeling early and can hold it until you're 15, you tend to never lose it.

One of the cool, chaste countries - Canada or Sweden.

Life is like an overlong drama through which we sit being nagged by the vague memories of having read the reviews.

I assume my stance, and take back the club, low, slowly; at the top, my eyes fog over, and my joints dip and swirl like barn swallows, I swing. There is a fruitless commotion of dust and rubber at my feet. "Smothered it," I say promptly. After enough lessons the terminology becomes second nature.

I did feel as though a number of critics had appointed themselves, when they sat down with a new book of mine, to rectify what they felt to be was my inflated reputation and so that the book in hand was not really given a chance but made a kind of weapon in the general attempt to bring me down to size.

Love makes the air light.