I am not a theologian or a philosopher. I am a story teller.

We just got to go on, that's all. That's what grownups would do.

The candle-buds opened their wide white flowers....Their scent spilled out into the air and took possession of the island.

I'm not a critic so much of my own writing. People must make up their own minds over that.

I think there might even come a time when I would read Virgil again. Ovid's Metamorphoses, perhaps, not because the music goes round and round and never comes out, but because it's an extraordinary picture of ceaseless change that never comes to an end.

My father was very musical, and music plays quite a large part in my life.

There were no words, and no movements but the tearing of teeth and claws.