“Can knowledge be conveyed that isn't felt?But if transport's the problem -they tell me get a job and earn yourselfan automobile-I'd rather collect my partsas I go: chair, desk, houseand crankshaft Shakespeare.Generator boy, Paul, love is carriedif it's held.”

“The problem, says my sister, Kelly, is not that I can't get over Naomi - it's that I refuse to.... Loving Naomi and waiting for her to come back to me - it's not a stalker thing, but more like a personal mission. A job.”

“Problem is, once I sit at my desk and put all these down on paper. I realize something vital is missing. It doesn't crystallize - no crystals, just pebbles. And I'm not transported anywhere.”

“I am simply impressed by the unexpected insights which shower down on me when my job is to imagine, as contrasted with the woodenly familiar ideas which clutter my desk when my job is to tell the truth.”

“I'd rather invest my time collecting memories and friends and love and all the things money can't buy.”

“Getting money from my dad is a finesse job. Luckily, I have finesse coming out of my arse. I barged into his study without knocking, marched across to his desk, and held out my hand. “Give me twenty pounds,” I snapped. “I need twenty pounds. Give it to me. Now!”