Life's too short to be sat at home writing all the time.

Off with the old and on with the new and never a second's thought between.

Jack and Jill slept, wrapped in each other's arms, untroubled by any dream in their cocoon of freshly discovered wrinkly passion.

He was dazed, the soft thoughts sinking slowly in. A son. Even a daughter. His child. Immortality. A chance to make good. Pass on the hard lessons learned.

The sun was up - stuck like half a tinned apricot on a sky awash with all the colours of a fading bruise. Down below the living dead were forming their complaining queues at bus stops.

The Lord has filled my tiny pot until it spilleth over

We all have the time we need to tell our stories.

For Restoration Of Mankind To Be Fulfilled, A Terrible Sacrifice Was Necessary

You spend so much of your life basing yourself on what you think other people think of you. Then you realise that maybe one of the purposes of life is not to care.

The only thing that preoccupies me is that France has broken down, and we need to start up the engine again - all the way. But not so as to run into a wall.

A response is not just a re-action, a protest, as it were, against being disturbed; it is, as the word indicates, an answer. It meets the stimulus, and corresponds with it.

Freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night.

There are great disciplines from being a sportsman that you can transfer into being an artist. The preparation, the sacrifice, the constant desire to improve.

Human beings are mercifully so constituted as to be able to conceal from themselves what they intend to do until they are well into the doing of it.

Travelers are much at the mercy of phrases ... vast generalizations formulate in their exposed brains.