Clinton's hands remain incredibly clean, don't they, and Tony Blair's smile remains as wide as ever. I view these guises with profound contempt.
A few friends and me used to go and watch Bunuel, Carne, Cocteau... Cocteau and Bunuel were surrealism. And I was very excited by that. 'Un Chien Andalou', especially.
One way of looking at speech is to say it is a constant stratagem to cover nakedness.
Sometimes you feel you have the truth of a moment in your hand, then it slips through your fingers and is lost.
I find the whole Blairish idea more and more repugnant every day. 'New Labour': the term itself is so trashy. Kind of ersatz.
Quite simply, my writing life has been one of relish, challenge, excitement.
