I've never been more famous than I was, suddenly, in 1986.

Bloody men are like bloody buses - you wait for about a year and as soon as one approaches your stop two or three others appear.

I've said what I'm prepared to say in my poems, and then journalists think that you're going to tell them a whole lot more.

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange The size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave— They got quarters and I had a half. And that orange it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park This is peace and contentment. It's new. The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all my jobs on my list And enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I'm glad I exist.

I was single for a long time and felt very much alone in the world, and talk of family values upset me very much at that phase in my life, because I used to think: 'What about people like me?

The interesting thing is that you don't often meet a poet who doesn't have a sense of humour, and some of them do keep it out of their poems because they're afraid of being seen as light versifiers.

I think it's a question which particularly arises over women writers: whether it's better to have a happy life or a good supply of tragic plots.