Fiction had never been Jackson's thing. Facts seemed challenging enough without making stuff up. What he discovered was that the great novels of the … - Kate Atkinson

... the great novels of the world were about three things - death, money and sex. Occasionally a whale.

I suppose a better sister would have set about weaving him a shirt from nettles and throwing it over his furred-over body so that he could be released from his enchantment and resume his human form. I give him some cat food instead.

This was love. It didn't come free, you paid in pain. Your own. But then nobody ever said love was easy. Well, they did, but they were idiots.

You said five little words to someone — How can I help you? — and it was as if you'd mortgaged your soul out to them.