I hate going back. I’d rather live at the bottom of my river of black, dragged this way and that by the forces that be, than go back there. Those forty-eight hours took twenty years to drown.

Dawn cackles as she guides me through the all-glass porch. Thinner, paler Reina shuffles about behind Dawn, watching as I slip my boots off. Although she tries to hide her hands, her fingers flicker nervously. I place my boots neatly on the floor of the porch beside the other pairs in the shadows under the...

Stop flirting,” he tells her, but he looks at her breasts and thinks, The girls with the bruises in the sex films are just dead dolls, but this pretty toy is alive.

Obelmäker is a deeply fearful person and terribly indecisive. Even when he makes a choice, it’s usually bad.

Every book contains a secret – even the writer doesn’t always know what it is.

So deep is the conflict, I believe I cannot breathe for all the doubt, guilt and sorrow my sister is pushing into me as her hand presses harder upon my sore breastplate and her fingers nervously twist the rusted clasp I remember so well. She is listening to the expert medic as he mutters excuses...

When I read a daring book or listen to rebellious music, I feel like I’ve found what freedom really means.

Beyond the boundaries of herself, her parents and the enclosing garden walls, were open fields and other waiting places she still knew nothing of – lies of the land, perhaps. What Katie did know is that out there in the lonely nowhere was a special quietness, free of the sounds of daytime birds or foxes...

And don’t drop food.

Some ancient oversight had nearly taken his sight, but this sad fuck was already blind inside.

As a passionate writer, reader and fiction lover, I enjoy sharing recommendations and promoting the work of fellow authors.

Something Simon composed years ago is playing on someone else’s personal headphones; it’s a man sat opposite him in the waiting room. He believes the man is destroying his piece by reading a car magazine at the same time, like both forms of attention are possible. They shouldn’t be. He feels irritated by the man...

I’m endlessly fascinated by the way people interact, what they say to each other and how they respond to different situations.

Shush – it’s silent time again.

Baumauer secretly fears Kalist – and Kalist knows it.

I love judging people. It makes all my fears disappear and all the things I don’t like about myself seem so much less important.

There are books that change our perspectives and books that change our personalities.

My spine spoke to me; I felt vulnerable, like he was gradually covering me in a heavy layer of gold without even having to touch me.

Aref knelt, reached into his pocket and produced an implement made from a small stick which he called his miswak, the use of which he silently illustrated before handing her his spare. He also gave her a clean cloth and a bowl of the freshly collected water. She was directed to soften the dry stick...

He’s in a side room alone with her and it’s far too fucking hot.

An overnight bag with the company logo – a white silhouette of a finch (which once perched on the curved back of a stallion representing cofounder, Orwell, but has now been ‘adjusted’) – sits motionless beside him on the carpet, sucking up bedbugs.

When I write, I write obsessively. I try to pace myself, but some fires are too hot to put out.

Pain is usually all on the surface, but this terror is internal; not just a hurt, but a new language of feeling.

I’m an observer. I am fascinated by people and how their minds work (and, of course, my own). Why we are the way we are, why we do the things we do – and that interest drives my writing. I was a physicist before fiction claimed my soul, so I’m an experimenter. I’m open to...

On some days she was able to see both sun and moon at the same time. Like feuding cousins, they hung in two corners of the vast world-ceiling refusing to look at one another. The moon was always harder to spot and more faded, but it was there if you looked, as many things were.

Baumauer has been lured into the exhausting habit of supplying Kalist with ever more exceptional quality work just to appease him and often survives all day and all evening without food, but Maxwell D. Kalist is never satisfied. He heavily criticises every piece of banking intelligence the man hands him. The pressure on Baumauer to...

When a person sets out to learn from others and not to teach others he becomes a true writer.

My best writing happens when I’m fighting to produce it.

Isn’t she just Little Miss Sweetness and Light?” – and it was a statement that put him off proposing. It made him seriously reassess his options. He didn’t want to be with someone others saw as overly-moral because he has flaws, he has weaknesses. How would his mistakes compare to her virtuousness? She used to...

One day, I decided I was going to write books forever.

I always feel anxious if anyone’s close to uncovering my secrets.

Don’t suffocate in there.

The breeze around them seemed to drop – dead – like a door to the best things had just closed.

It’s difficult to quantify precisely the effect of books on our lives – but generally speaking, it’s enormous.

The drive was strangely calm. Deathly calm. Dark, light …. dark, light …. dark again as we glided under repeat street lighting. Four men sitting silently in four leather seats. Could hear the creaks. The smallest sounds are the most terrifying.

The fear of not being remembered is a dangerous thing.

You are a more powerful person than you might have ever imagined.” Maxwell D. Kalist.

You’re a fat cunt and you can’t add up to save your life.” Dimitri Pissec.

The most lies we will ever tell in our lives will be to ourselves.

The city is sore with movement, but still it oscillates. Busy people churn through grey-toned streets, their briefcases held close, rustling against trouser legs. The collective machine is tired, but each worker drives on. Gleaming taxis mirror stiletto heels, warping perfection. Laughter is rare, loud and sharp and these people want to believe they breathe,...

The greatest barrier to self-understanding is our fear of knowing the truth within ourselves, but when we do understand ourselves, we greatly enhance what we are capable of.

her daughter”.

Men circle like bees around honey, buzzing to communicate their sexual despair.

When I write, I try to represent the voices of people I’ve known who had no voice.

I live, love and loathe my characters. They stole my mind. They stole my heart.

No trees, sky or ground. No other buildings or fields. No winding path, no brambles, no outhouse or pond or flowers, no sunshine or children playing. Just blackness.

Reality was dawning on him and he hated reality. If you were him, so would you.

Too old for dolls. Too ill for tablets.

You need a father figure in your life.

The only difference between writers and people who don’t write is that writers aren’t afraid to display their demons.