I'm a novelist, so I can't write about ideas unless they're attached to people.

The land of embarrassment and breakfast.

Perhaps love is essential because it's unnecessary.

There is accumulation. There is responsibility. And beyond this there is great unrest.

You put together two people who have not been put together before; and sometimes the world is changed, sometimes not. They may crash and burn, or burn and crash. But sometimes, something new is made, and then the world is changed. Together, in that first exaltation, that first roaring sense of uplift, they are greater than their two separate selves. Together, they see further, and they see more clearly.

He always thought that Touie's long illness would somehow prepare him for her death. He always imagined that grief anf guilt, if they followed, would be more clear-edged, more defined, more finite. Instead they seem like weather, like clouds constantly re-forming into new shapes, blown by nameless, unidentifiable winds.

As I've explained to my wife many times, you have to kill your wife or mistress to get on the front page of the papers.