It was a perfectly normal gerbil. It appeared to be living in an exciting construction of cylinders, spheres and treadmills, such as the Spanish Inquisition would have devised if they'd had access to a plastics molding press.

I am not by nature the kind of creator who is transgressive in order to be transgressive.

The old rules are crumbling and nobody knows what the new rules are...so make up your own rules.

You have to believe. Otherwise, it will never happen.

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.

He was painfully shy, which, as is often the manner of the painfully shy, he overcompensated for by being too loud at the wrong times.

There's nothing for getting you good fast like having to be good fast, if that makes any sense.