In the beginning there was nothing, which exploded.

There is a soak-the-rich attitude in the air, a feeling that if you have a lot of money you must have got it by some ghastly means. I can quite happily say there was never any family money. All the money we got was mine, just from writing books.

Any fool could be a witch with a runic knife, but it took skill to be one with an apple corer.

Banana daiquiris aren't knock-'em-back-by-the-flagon.

She was not, herself, hugely in favour of motherhood in general. Obviously it was necessary, but it wasn't exactly difficult. Even cats managed it. But women acted as if they'd been given a medal that entitled them to boss people around. It was as if, just because they'd got the label which said "mother," everyone else got a tiny part of the label that said "child".

Grinning like a necrophiliac in a morgue.

Humans need fantasy to be human. To be the place where the falling angel meets the rising ape.