I Never Read In Bed,

There Is A Word In Old English Which Belongs Wholly To That Civilization - "dustsceawung," Meaning Contemplation Of Dust. It Is A True Image Of The Anglo-saxon Mind, Or At Least An Echo Of That Consciousness Which Considered Transcience And Loss To Be Part Of The Human Estate; It Was A World In Which Life Was Uncertain And The Principal Diety Was Fate Or Destiny Or "wyrd."

None Of My Books Has Been Ever In My Head; After They're Finished, They Go. It's Like Being A Sort Of Medium; You Just Grab It When It's There Then Just Release It When It's Time To Go. There's A Lot Of Instinct, Not Planning.

There Are So Many Characters Whizzing Around Inside My Head, It's Like Looney Tunes. But As Soon As I've Finished Writing About Them, I Completely Forget Who They Are.

A Triptych In Which The Presiding Deities Are Mother, England And Me.

The World Is A Sea In Which We All Must Surely Drown.