Two bones fell down my chimney and into the bedroom this morning. Hysterical thing to happen to a thriller writer. Murderous ravens perhaps?

Indeed, you become what you eat. In which case I am an onion. Layered, slightly sour and guaranteed to bring tears to the eyes.

To be desired by those who are themselves highly desirable is in itself an aphrodisiac.

The worst enemy is one whose doctrines are founded in hate and are thus beyond debate.

This may be the very nature of love, a passion as fickle as the sea, full of certainty when the object of desire is absent, yet dubious when confronted again with the lover's presence.

You must appreciate that love is the last reason for which a man marries.

Be bad, and if you can't be bad be worse.