Madame Bovary and a flying carpet, they are both untrue in the same way. Somebody made them up.

At the height of the British Empire very few English novels were written that dealt with British power. It's extraordinary that at the moment in which England was the global superpower the subject of British power appeared not to interest most writers.

In the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths, our arts, our songs, we celebrate the nonbelongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks.

I had a very difficult relationship with my father, which ended up okay, but there were many difficult years.

Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what.

What's the use of stories that aren't even true?

Ignorantly is how we all fall in love; for it is a kind of fall. Closing our eyes, we leap from that cliff in hope of a soft landing. Nor is it always soft; but still, without that leap nobody comes to life.