She loved you in the morning because the day was new.

I never attended a creative writing class in my life. I have a horror of them.

(and Catholics give out forgiveness at about the same rate as politicians give out promises and whores give out)

Today, writing seems to me like an incredible luxury, almost a perversity, something which hardly exists in the world anymore, where you get to see the fruits of your actions in a daily way.

Step back from your Facebook Wall for a moment: Doesn't it, suddenly, look a little ridiculous? Your life in this format?

Art is the Western myth, with which we both console ourselves and make ourselves.

Tell the truth through whichever veil comes to hand - but tell it. Resign yourself to the lifelong sadness that comes from never ­being satisfied.