Memory is a great deceiver: it embroiders until naught is left but the glory and the pleasure..

Living is a hazardous profession..

You must appreciate that love is the last reason for which a man marries..

So many of man's actions appear to have no immediate consequence but, concealed, do their work until finally all catches up and forms a complex web o….

Information is the mortar that both builds and destroys empires..

This may be the very nature of love, a passion as fickle as the sea, full of certainty when the object of desire is absent, yet dubious when confront….

Trust is won not given..

Rewrite, rewrite, rewrite, don't be precious about your first draft, it's an architectural blueprint to a whole building, be your own worst critic, c….

Indeed, you become what you eat. In which case I am an onion. Layered, slightly sour and guaranteed to bring tears to the eyes..

Danger is an aphrodisiac..

A man who denies his past is a man who truly denies himself a future, for he refuses to know himself, and to deny knowledge of oneself is to stumble ….

I was very fierce and very driven at eighteen. But my basic philosophy I think has stayed the same, I'm still an atheist, I still believe strongly in….

As a reader I like both great characterization and fast moving plots. The challenge is to balance the both and not compromise one for the other..

To be desired by those who are themselves highly desirable is in itself an aphrodisiac..

No, what Great Aunt Winifred was suffering from was the persecution every happily single woman suffers: the predictable social condemnation of her in….

Death strips all men of dignity..

Two bones fell down my chimney and into the bedroom this morning. Hysterical thing to happen to a thriller writer. Murderous ravens perhaps?.

Humiliation scars deeper than the lash..

We cannot choose the times we live in. Just as, sometimes, we cannot choose whom we love..

Starting a new novel is a little like starting a new relationship - you have to be prepared to commit for at least three years and put up with the do….

Love wasn't a piece of music you could play over and over again with different interpretations. It actually needed to be improvised as you went along..