I am not a fan of historical fiction that is sloppy in its research or is dishonest about the real history.

For when all else is done, on­ly words re­main. Words en­dure.

What we leave behind in this life is the memory of who we were and what we did. An imprint, no more.

I read a lot of thrillers, especially American crime novels.

There's no black and no white, just shades of grey...But the small betrayals lead to bigger ones, morality is eroded.

There comes always a moment when the desire to act, however ill the cause, is stronger than the wish to listen.

Love - true love - is a precious thing. It is painful, uncomfortable, makes fools of us all, but it is what breathes meaning and color and purpose into our lives.