“I have a head for heights it's true, but no stomach for the depths. Strange then to have plumbed so many.”

“It's only a story, you say. So it is, and the rest of life with it - creation story, love story, horror, crime, the strange story of you and I. The alphabet of my DNA shapes certain words, but the story is not told. I have to tell it myself. What is it that I have to tell myself again and again? That there is always a new beginning, a different end. I can change the story. I am the story. Begin.”

“I can't believe that we have reached the end of everything. The red dust is frightening. The carbon dioxide is real. Water is expensive. Bio-tech has created as many problems as it has fixed, but we're here, we're alive, we're the human race, we have survived wars and terrorism and scarcity and global famine, and we have made it back from the brink, not once but many times. History is not a suicide note - it's a record of our survival.”

“What a strange world this is when you can have as much sex as you like but love is taboo.”

“Don't you think it's strange that life, described as so rich and full, a camel-trail of adventure, should shrink to this coin-sized world? A head on one side, a story on the other. Someone you loved and what happened. That's all there is when you dig in your pockets. The most significant thing is someone else's face. What else is embossed on your hands but her?”

“I go on writing so that I will always have something to read.”

“Whelks are strange and comforting.They have no notion of community life and they breed very quietly.But they have a strong sense of personal dignity.Even lying face down in a tray of vinegar there is something noble about a whelk.Which cannot be said for everybody.”