I Try Hard Not To Preach, But

My Advice To Anyone Adapting A Novel Is That Once They've Read It And Learnt To Understand It, Then They Must Throw It Away And Never Look At It Again!

This Calls For A Very Special Blend Of Psychology And Extreme Violence.

I Think Trying To Be Cool Is The Worst Possible Ambition - And I Have Never Suffered From It.

Artists Don't Create Society, They Reflect It

Beyond Love, Beyond Unrequited Love, Perhaps Even Beyond Any Other Passion Known To Humanity, Deep, Deep In The Depths Of The Turgid, Clinging, Swamplike Pit Of Despair That Lies Dormant Within Every Soul, Lurks Jealousy. Jealousy, That Most Demeaning And Debilitating Of Emotions. Jealousy, Which Can Double The Strength Of The Love Upon Which It Is Based, But Whilst Doubling It, Warp And Pervert It, Untill It Is No Longer Recognizable As The Thing Of Beauty It Once Was. Jealous Love Is No More Like True Love Than Mr Hyde Was Like Dr Jekyll Or A Stagnant Swamp Is Like A Freshwater Lake.