“There are moments in life- and I would have to admit that I don´t have them as often as I would like - when everything just comes together, and when, even being single, I feel happy, relaxed and confident. Some days, like today, I feel, as the French would say, so comfortable in my skin, that I could almost cry with the joy of being alive”

“Half of them have beards too, which I´m afraid is a no-go area for me. I don´t spend half my life waxing to end up kissing a bunch of pubes.”

“And all of this leaves me wondering if this dream of mine-that out there, somewhere, hiding, there exists a guy who is cultured and calm, and smiley and faithful, who want´s to escape the rat-race with me and, apparently like the French, wear wellies and make cheese...Well, I wonder if it can possibly exist. I don´t want much...just someone who would flat on his stomach next to me in the garden watching ants carrying crumbs through the jungle of blades of grass. I wonder if that can ever exist, anywhere, for anyone.”

“Air travel is such a strange experience. It´s such an intimate thing, to travel alongside a stranger for so many hours, to eat together, take in a film, snooze side by side. In economy I think that it´s so intimate, that like neighbours on the same landing, most of us consider that it´s better not to take the risk of ever getting to know them. In business class, there´s just enough room - as elbows don´t actually touch - to take that chance.”

“Someone like my mum would say, Oh, you're just a kid, you don't know what love is.But I didn't think of anything else apart from being with Alicia, and the only time I felt like I was where I wanted to be was when I was with her. I mean, that may as well be love, mightn't it?”

“Was he coming to bury the hatchet? Was there a hatchet to even be buried? For some reason I started thinking of how weird it was that I would always be his son and he would always be my father, that there was nothing that could ever change. I didn't know whether this permanence was comforting or terrifying.”

“Have you got any soul?" a woman asks the next afternoon. That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days no. A few days ago I was right out; now I've got loads, too much, more than I can handle. I wish I could spread it a bit more evenly, I want to tell her, get a better balance, but I can't seem to get it sorted. I can see she wouldn't be interested in my internal stock control problems though, so I simply point to where I keep the soul I have, right by the exit, just next to the blues.”