I want to question the images that are in our memory. There is always a double level in my work; what you see is true and at the same time not true.
I save the best of myself for novels, and I believe it shows
How plotless real life was!
But I don't think people take bad advice. They've got intuition too, you know. In fact I'd be surprised if they take any advice at all.
. . . if you catalogue grudges, anything looks bad.
Sooner or later, even the sharpest pain became flattened.
For me, writing something down was the only road out. . . I hated childhood, and spent it sitting behind a book waiting for adulthood to arrive. When I ran out of books I made up my own. At night, when I couldn't sleep, I made up stories in the dark.
It's nice when you've done enough movies that you can do your own anthology.
I look at autism like a bus accident, and you don't become cured from a bus accident, but you can recover.
The ratman froze, staring at me. "Why are you laughing?" His voice held just a hint of unease. Good. I was hoping that the vampires would come for me soon and save me. You've got to admit that's funny.
London is the epitome of our times, and the Rome of to-day.