I was on the verge of something numinous and profound and in one more second the universe was going to crack open and arcana would rain down on my head like grace and all the cosmic mysteries were going to be revealed.

No point in thinking, you just have to get on with life. We only have one after all, we should try and do our best. We can never get it right, but we must try.

The great thing about writing compared to life is getting to tie things up.

She was a terrible mother, there was no doubt about it, but she didn't even have the strength to feel guilty.

Love was the hardest thing. Don't let anyone ever tell you different.

(although anyone with half a brain must surely be mired in existential gloom all the time)

The past is a cupboard full of light and all you have to do is find the key that opens the door.