I think a lot of artists no longer want to participate in or be associated with narrative because of its corruptedness in contemporary culture.

Hope is like one of those orchids that grows around toxic waste: lovely in itself - and an assertion, if you like, of indefatigable good - but a sure sign that something nasty lies underneath.

As writers go, I have a skin of average thickness. I am pleased by a good review, disappointed by a bad. None of it penetrates far enough to influence the thing I write next.

That's writing for you: when you make space for passion, it doesn't turn up.

How can there be so many mothers in the world but so little sense of what it might be to become one?

The creativity of childhood was often surrendered amid feelings of unworthiness. So the idea that ­others are demanding to be given it back - to be "taught" - is disturbing.

Childhood, after all, is not an ending, but rather a state full of potent curiosity.

Even if they knew the truth of their own feelings, most mothers would be socially and emotionally incapable of revealing it.

Honest criticism, I suppose, has its place. But honest writing is infinitely more valuable.

Hope is one of those no-win-no-fee things, and although it needs some encouragement to survive, its existence doesn't necessarily prove anything.

People are least aware of others when demonstrating their own power over them.

Without a rest, test yourself against the best, and then try to find a way to be better.

If you can’t build with them, don’t chill with them

Our holy duty is to pray. The answer belongs to God.

Pride is nothing more than false courage without long term solutions.

There is no denial that all things are possible in life. But don't forget to take care of your health, because without it too many things would become impossible.

Wars of opinion, as they have been the most destructive, are also the most disgraceful of conflicts.

I don't know what frightens me more, the power that crushes us, or our endless ability to endure it.

Ultimately, my hope is to amaze myself.

I am deeply saddened and shocked at the loss of umpire Wally Bell.

I took to the Bodleian Library as to a lover and ... would sit long hours in Bodley's arms, to emerge, blinking and dazed with the smell and feel of all those books.