Twenty years ago, I was living in a lovely cottage on the edge of Dartmoor but I couldn't afford to run a car.

We all lie to each other, present some sort of front.

I found out only recently that we were making an index of enemy code signs.

My father was a soldier and my mother was a great mover. She once counted up how many places she had lived in during the first 25 years of her marriage and it came to 20.

Unimaginative people are spared quite a lot. They're often much happier, because they don't go through all the variety of conceptions of the person they love.

We're all like children. We may think we grow up, but to me, being grown up is death, stopping thinking, trying to find out things, going on learning.

It seemed sensible to move to a market town where I could walk everywhere.