The true story is vicious and multiple and untrue after all. Why do you need it? Don’t ever ask for the true story.

As I was whizzing around the United States on yet another demented book tour, getting up at four in the morning to catch planes, doing two cities a day, eating the Pringle food object out of the mini-bar at night as I crawled around on the hotel room floor, too tired even to phone room service, I thought, 'There must be a better way of doing this'.

We pulled the seeds out and scattered them on their flossy parachutes, leaving only the leathery brownish yellow tongue, soft as the inside of an elbow.

I was kidnapped by literature at a young age and never wanted to be ransomed.

Another belief of mine; that everyone else my age is an adult, whereas I am merely in disguise.

So much better to travel than to arrive.

art happens. It happens when you have the craft and the vocation and are waiting for something else, something extra, or maybe not waiting; in any case it happens. It's the extra rabbit coming out of the hat, the one you didn't put there.