In my early teens, I read every bound volume of the magazine Punch. Every writer of any distinction in the English language, and I mean including America and England, at some time wrote for Punch. Jerome K. Jerome, who wrote Three Men In A Boat, I loved. I was very impressed when I read a piece by Mark Twain in Punch, and realized that despite the fact that they were on different continents, Jerome K. Jerome and Mark Twain had the same kind of laconic, laid-back, "The human race is damn stupid, but quite interesting" attitude. They were almost talking with the same voice.

Knowing how bad you could be is a great encouragement to being good.

I had a deprived childhood, you see. I had lots of other kids to play with and my parents bought me outdoor toys and refused to ill-treat me, so it never occurred to me to seek solitary consolation with a good book.

As large as worlds. As old as Time. As patient as a brick.

Even if it's not your fault, it's your responsibility.

We are here and it is now. The way I see it is, after that, everything tends towards guesswork.

Creators aren't gods. They make places, which is quite hard. It's men that make gods. This explains a lot.