People make events into stories. Stories give events meaning.
What folly takes light through ether to each eye from every horizon.
I'm a great believer in gathering together all your obsessions and seeing if you can make a novel out of them.
I erased the thought from my mind, but I couldn't undo the fact that I'd had the thought in the first place.
The sky was the colour of sad weddings.
For other people, love is like some rare orchid that can only grow in one place under a certain set of conditions. For me it's like bindweed. It grows with no encouragement at all, under any conditions, and just strangles everything else.