It was not a house where secrets could be kept easily.

I wanted to wear the mantle and the pearls. I wanted to know the man who painted her like that.

It's a rare book that wins the battle against drooping eyelids.

Don't write about what you know - write about what you're interested in. Don't write about yourself - you aren't as interesting as you think.

I have spent my life waiting for something to happen,’ she said. ‘And I have come to understand that nothing will. Or it already has, and I blinked during that moment and it's gone. I don't know which is worse — to have missed it or to know there is nothing to miss.’ Falling Angels

My father was often impatient during March, waiting for winter to end, the cold to ease, the sun to reappear. March was an unpredictable month, when it was never clear what might happen. Warm days raised hopes until ice and grey skies shut over the town again.

Although I always said that I wanted to be a writer from childhood, I hadn't actually done much about it until I came to London.