Are you okay?" asked Finisterre.
"Annoyed," I said, giving him my hand so he could heave me to my feet.
"Yes, I should imagine being attacked by a nun might be annoying.

My mind wanders terribly. I'm not wholly annoyed by my daydreaming as it has been immense use to me as regards imaginative thought, but it doesn't help when it comes to concentration. And writing needs concentration - lots of it.

I have a very varied taste in music. Everything from rap to classical to Latino to Rat Pack to jazz.

The sky was like ebony and the only illumination was the harsh white light of the central streetlamp, which cast shadows so hard it seemed you might cut yourself on them.

Governments and fashions come and go but Jane Eyre is for all time.

I'll tell you what love is" I said, "It is blind devotion, unquestioning self humiliation, utter submission, trust and belief against yourself and against the whole world, giving up your heart and soul to the smiter.