You're convinced that anybody who meets you for the first time will consider you a shit, so you take preventive action. Relax, boychick. When they get to know you better they will realize that they were right. You are a shit.

In a nutshell, I am not unaware of my failings. Neither am I a stranger to irony.

We live in the country, and I have a huge library there. When we go to London for the winter I never know which books to take. I never know what I am going to need. That's the only disadvantage.

The only way I'm keeping my hands off her is if I'm dead. Find another way to fix us.

Fundamentally, all writing is about the same thing; it's about dying, about the brief flicker of time we have here, and the frustration that it creates.

C'è stato un tempo in cui osavo sognare che Miriam e io, superati i
novanta, saremmo spirati insieme, come Filemone e Bauci. E allora un
munifico Zeus, con un lieve tocco del caduceo, ci avrebbe trasformato in
due alberi vicini, coi rami che si sfiorano d'inverno, le foglie che si
intrecciano a primavera.