You will go on and meet someone else and I'll just be a chapter in your tale, but for me, you were, you are and you always will be, the whole story.

I went grey at 12, my eyesight went at 17. I've been a crock from very early on.

Do I mind being called a chick-lit writer? Well, it's not the worst thing that could happen.

He seemed wild and dangerous and carefree--well, he would, would'nt he? What were motorcycles and black leather pants if not the uniform of a wild, dangerous and carefree man?

As you know, I don't believe in fear, just an invention by men so they get all the money and good jobs.

I never wear flats. My shoes are so high that sometimes when I step out of them, people look around in confusion and ask, "Where'd she go?" and I have to say, "I'm down here.

Political correctness is a minefield