The whole story of migration and what that has done in interconnecting the planet is obviously something I've written about a lot.

What had been (at the beginning) no bigger than a full stop had expanded into a comma, a word, a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter; now it was bursting into more complex developments, becoming, one might say, a book - perhaps an encylopaedia - even a whole language.

If you actually want to change your world, there is a better way of doing it than blowing yourself up.

The fact of being alive compensated for what life did to one.

I'd wanted to create a storm so that I could become more famous and richer.

Perhaps the story you finish is never the one you begin.

If love is a yearning to be like (even to become) the beloved, then hatred, it must be said, can be engendered by the same ambition, when it cannot be fulfilled.