Calling it a simple schoolgirl crush was like saying a Rolls-Royce was a vehicle with four wheels, something like a hay-wagon. She did not giggle wildly and blush when she saw him, nor did she chalk his name on trees or write it on the walls of the Kissing Bridge. She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache. She would have died for him.

The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there... and still on your feet.

I was being paid to do what I loved, and there's no gig on earth better than that; it's like a license to steal.

I can't see the future, but it's grim. The depletion of resources - we're living in this dine-and-dash economy.

I tend to scare myself.

Ka was a wheel; it was also a net from which none ever escaped.

I don't have nightmares; I give them all to you.