Gerry?' Laurel had to strain to hear thought the noise on the other end of the line. 'Gerry? Where are you?' 'London. A phone booth on Fleet Street.' 'The city still has working phone booths?' 'It would appear so. Unless this is the Tardis, in which case I'm in serious trouble.

... people who'd led dull and blameless lives did not give thanks for second chances.

I love the structural part of the writing process.

...She's understood the power of stories. Their magical ability to refill the wounded part of people.

Nell was not one for friends and had never hidden her distaste for most other humans, their neurotic compulsion for the acquisition of allies.

There’s something about hospital walls; though only made of bricks and plaster, when you’re inside them the noise, the reality of the teeming city beyond, disappears; it’s just outside the door, but it might as well be a magical land far, far away.

It was such a pleasure to sink one's hands into the warm earth, to feel at one's fingertips the possibilities of the new season.