This Is How A Man Looks When

She Knew With Suddeness And Ease That This Moment Would Be With Her Always, Within Hand's Reach Of Memory. She Doubted If They All Sensed It - They Had Seen The World - But Even George Was Silent For A Minute As They Looked, And The Scene, The Smell, Even The Sound Of The Band Playing A Faintly Recognisable Movie Theme, Was Locked Forever In Her, And She Was At Peace.

Belief In The Supernatural Or Belief In Wild Talents Like Precognition And Telepathy And Telekinesis And Things Like That, It Seems To Me That Belief In Those Things Is Just Very, Very Freeing.

The Only Religions I Don't Like Are The Ones That Insist Their God Is Bigger Than Your God.

I Don't Spend The Day Writing. I'll Maybe Write Fresh Copy For Two Hours, And Then I'll Go Back And Revise Some Of It And Print What I Like And Then Turn It Off.

I Never Have A Thematic Intention At The Outset. The Story Informs The Theme For Me Rather Than The Other Way Around. But As It Happens... This Is, At Least To A Degree, About Getting Old And The Rapid Passage Of Our Lives.