Why is it we can never love the people we ought to?

Why do gentlemen's voices carry so clearly, when women's are so easily stifled?

..this feeling haunts and inhabits me, like a sickness. it covers me, like skin.

I never expected my books to do even as well as they have. I still feel grateful for it, every single day.

Why is it we can never love the people we ought to?

Read like mad. But try to do it analytically - which can be hard, because the better and more compelling a novel is, the less conscious you will be of its devices. It's worth trying to figure those devices out, however: they might come in useful in your own work.

I've just finished a series of Olivia Manning novels. She's best known for two trilogies: Balkan Trilogy and Levant Trilogy. The six novels are continuous and contain the same set of characters. They are based on Manning's experiences in Eastern Europe and Egypt during the Second World War. Each novel is a wonderful picture of the peculiar British expatriate culture and what was happening during the war. She's one of those brilliant women who write very well about domestic relationships. All the books are slim, and it's easy to gallop through them.