Journalism makes you think fast. You have to speak to people in all walks of life. Especially local journalism.

A marriage is always made up of two people who are prepared to swear that only the other one snores.

For the first time in her life Granny wondered whether there might be something important in all these books people were setting store by these days, although she was opposed to books on strict moral grounds, since she had heard that many of them were written by dead people and therefore it stood to reason reading them would be as bad as necromancy. Among the many things in the infinitely varied universe with which Granny did not hold was talking to dead people, who by all accounts had enough troubles of their own.

It's lies. It's all lies. Some of them are just prettier than others, that's all. People see what they think is there.

I was a very keen reader of science fiction.

In the words of the philosopher Sceptum, the founder of my profession: am I going to get paid for this?

There was a man and he had eight sons. Apart from that, he was nothing more than a comma on the page of History. It's sad, but that's all you can say about some people.