We All Act As Hinges-fortuitous Links Between

You Have This Comet Trail Of Your Own Lived Life, Sparks From Which Arrive In The Head All The Time, Whether You Want Them Or Not - Life Has Been Lived But It Is Still All Going On, In The Mind For Better And For Worse.

I'm Intrigued By The Way In Which Physical Appearance Can Often Direct A Person's Life; Things Happen Differently For A Beautiful Woman Than For A Plain One.

I've Always Been Fascinated By The Operation Of Memory - The Way In Which It Is Not Linear But Fragmented, And Its Ambivalence.

Every Novel Generates Its Own Climate, When You Get Going.

And In Another Year Everything Will Be Different Yet Again. It Is Always Like That, And Always Will Be; You Are Forever Standing On The Brink, In A Place Where You Cannot See Ahead; There Is Nothing Of Which To Be Certain Except What Lies Behind. This Should Be Terrifying, But Somehow It Is Not.