“My thoughts went round and round and it occurred to me that if I ever wrote a novel it would be of the 'stream of consciousness' type and deal with an hour in the life of a woman at the sink.”

“What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted impatiently: "you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work.”

“Why did I walk so purposefully in a straight line? Where would it take me? He went round and round and we got there all the same.”

“Childhood went by enjoying 'Merry Go Round'.. but this life's 'Go Round' is not Merrier at all.. the path of life is taking me back to the same point.. again n again.. just to refresh my wounds.. n give me new pain n ache.. !!!”

“Round and round they went with their snakes, snakily...”

“Plenty of people were writing novels; in fact, if one did a survey in the street, half of Edinburgh was writing a novel, and this meant that there really weren't enough characters to go round. Unless, of course, one wrote about people who were themselves writing novels. And what would the novels that these fictional characters were writing be about? Well, they would be novels about people writing novels.”