I think...that I would rather recollect a life mis-spent on fragile things than spent avoiding moral debt.

For me, I would rather read a good book, from a contented author. I don't really care what it takes to produce that.

To be Despair. It is a portrait. Only close your eyes and feel.

Writing's a lot like cooking. Sometimes the cake won't rise, no matter what you do, and every now and again the cake tastes better than you ever could have dreamed it would.

The world always seems brighter when you've just made something that wasn't there before.

He wondered whether home was a thing that happened to a place after a while, or if it was something that you found in the end, if you simply walked and waited and willed it long enough.

The future had suddenly become unknowable: anything could happen: the train of my life had jumped the rails and headed off across the fields and coming down the lane with me, then.