This Isn't The First Time The World

I Could Do With A Bit More Excess. From Now On I'm Going To Be Immoderate--and Volatile--i Shall Enjoy Loud Music And Lurid Poetry. I Shall Be Rampant.

What Is A Writer Of Fiction But A Liar With A Licence?

I Am Not At All A Chocoholic. I Would Rather Eat Anchovy Toast.

All Those Moments, Those Memories. Everything That We Are, Compressed In Just Two Or Three Kilos Of Paper — The Weight Of A Human Heart.

Their Love Was Something Which Coloured The Air Between Them Like Sunlight.