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.

People make events into stories. Stories give events meaning.

I'm a great believer in gathering together all your obsessions and seeing if you can make a novel out of them.

You can't do science in a novel, but you can do philosophy. Or, if you're really lucky, you can manage to pose a question in such a way that other people will take it on.

Routine kills creative thought.

Homeopaths argue that water has a memory.

I erased the thought from my mind, but I couldn't undo the fact that I'd had the thought in the first place.