When I was 20 I was immensely proud of the rows of grey-spined Penguin Modern Classics in my bookcase.

When I was 20 I was immensely proud of the rows of grey-spined Penguin Modern Classics in my bookcase.

I'm a really hectic dreamer, I never wake up not out of a dream and there's loads going on, lots of action, big blockbuster dreams, they're all major enterprises.

A new dress. Is this all it takes to make a new beginning, this shred of dyed cloth, shaped into the form of a woman's body?

There is probably no finer prose writer alive in Britain now, no-one better at making a sentence, no-one better at descriptive writing, no-one who can get so close to the vividness of other peoples interior selves.

It's not the punch you expect that knocks you down.

Revenge is so much more satisfying than regret.