The problem, as I see it, is that you've been told and not told. You've been told, but none of you really understand, and I dare say, some people are quite happy to leave it that way.

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There was another life that I might have had, but I am having this one.

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I can't even say I made my own mistakes. Really - one has to ask oneself - what dignity is there in that?

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Poor creatures. What did we do to you? With all our schemes and plans?

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It was like when you make a move in chess and just as you take your finger off the piece, you see the mistake you've made, and there's this panic because you don't know yet the scale of disaster you've left yourself open to.

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The evening's the best part of the day. You've done your day's work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it.

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After all, what can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished?

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Indeed — why should I not admit it? — in that moment, my heart was breaking.

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I half closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, and maybe even call.

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If you are under the impression you have already perfected yourself, you will never rise to the heights you are no doubt capable of.

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