Occupation: Writer Birth: March 20, 1934
I write not to record what I think but to discover what I think.
Now that spring is no longer to be recognised in blossoms or in new leaves on trees, I must look for it in myself. I feel the ice of myself cracking.….
Achilles too staggered a moment. He felt his soul change colour. Blood pooled at his feet, and though he continued to stand upright and triumphant in….
The earth's warmth under me, as I stretch out at night, is astonishing. It is like the warmth of another body that has absorbed the sun all day and n….
Silence is a form of communication. Speech divides us..
I've long come to the conclusion that when people say they can't put a book down, they don't mean they're interested in what's happening next; they m….
We are continuous with all the particles of our physical being, as in our breathing we are continuous with the sky. Between our bodies and the world ….
What else should our lives be but a continual series of beginnings, of painful settings out into the unknown, pushing off from the edges of conscious….
I might grow old in Brisbane, but I would never grow up..
I knew that the world around you is only uninteresting if you can't see what is really going on. The place you come from is always the most exotic pl….
With all those prizes the most interesting thing is getting on to the shortlist, because that tells you who people see as your peers..
All the things we achieve are things we have first of all imagined..
Fiction, with its preference for what is small and might elsewhere seem irrelevant; its facility for smuggling us into another skin and allowing us t….
What else is death but the refusal any longer to grow and suffer change?.
I have stopped finding fault with creation and have learned to accept it. We have some power in us that knows its own ends. It is that which drives u….
Words his soul danced to..
We’re such contrary creatures.