When I Propose A Candidate For A

Not Even The Brightest Future Can Make Up For The Fact That No Roads Lead Back To What Came Before - To The Innocence Of Childhood Or The First Time We Fell In Love.

You Get Spoiled As A Novelist Because You Get To Be The Director And The Editor, And You Play All The Parts, But As A Screenwriter, You Are A Bit Down The Ladder.

I Have Problems With A Religion Which Says That Faith In Itself Is Enough For A Ticket To Heaven. In Other Words, That The Ideal Is Your Ability To Manipulate Your Own Common Sense To Accept Something Your Intellect Rejects. It's The Same Model Of Intellectual Submission That Dictatorships Have Used Throughout Time, The Concept Of A Higher Reasoning Without Any Obligation To Discharge The Burden Of Proof.

It Was As If The Demise Of The Owner Had Lent The Flat A Physical Void It Hadn't Had Before. At The Same Time He Had The Feeling That He Wasn't Alone. Harry Believed In The Existence Of The Soul. Not That He Was Particularly Religious As Such, But It Was One Thing Which Always Struck Him When He Saw A Dead Body: The Body Was Bereft Of Something...the Creature Had Gone, The Light Had Gone,there Was Not The Illusory Afterglow That Long-since Burned-out Stars Have. The Body Was Missing Its Soul And It Was The Absence Of The Soul That Made Harry Believe.

Harry Looked At Bellman. He Could Not Help But Admire Him. The Way You Admire A Cockroach You Flush Down The Toilet And It Comes Creeping Back Again And Again And In The End It Inherits The World.