Stories may well be lies, but they are good lies that say true things, and which can sometimes pay the rent.

Even if your goose habitually lays golden eggs, it will still be cooked.

I think most things are pretty magical, and that it's less a matter of belief than it is one of just stopping to notice.

Work. Home. The pub. Meeting girls. Living in the city. Life. Is that all there is?

I always figure there are novels and short stories, and in those, I'm God. No one tells me what to do. I don't have to lose a page, or cut anything, it's just mine. Then there are other things where you're up against realities.

Never a possession, always the possessor, with skin as pale as smoke, and eyes tawny and sharp as yellow wine: Desire is everything you have ever wanted. Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Everything.

I remembered something somebody had once said to me. It's okay. Everyday is freshly ground.