We are all potentially demons to each other, but some close relationships are saved from this fate. - Iris Murdoch

I am looking out of my window in an anxious and resentful state of mind, oblivious to my surroundings, brooding perhaps on some damage done to my prestige. Then suddenly I observe a hovering kestrel. In a moment everything is altered. The brooding self with its hurt vanity has disappeared. There is nothing now but kestrel. And when I return to thinking of the other matter it seems less important

Starting a novel is opening a door on a misty landscape; you can still see very little but you can smell the earth and feel the wind blowing.

Those who hope, by retiring from the world, to earn a holiday from human frailty, in themselves and others, are usually disappointed.