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“Many of the ugly pages of American history have been obscured and forgotten....America owes a debt of justice which it has only begun to pay. If it loses the will to finish or slackens in its determination, history will recall its crimes and the country that would be great will lack the most indispensable element of greatness-justice.”

“You lose somebody you've possibly known for years and on top of that you lose a character that you love seeing on TV so I think that kind of makes it cool that we pay a price too. That it is painful on many levels and its amazing to be writing that moment and crossing that line right on the page and seeing the ugliness of it and having to deal with it. It's a very weird thing.”

“I hate to lose, and if anybody gets used to losing they are going to be a loser. I'd like to tell you losing is part of the game, and it is, but I hated it. I still hate to lose. And that will never change. By the way, just because I turned the page and poured all my energies into business does not mean that I don't miss organized sports. I do.”

“As long as 85,000 women are raped every year and 400,000 sexually assaulted in England and Wales alone, it's hard to argue that there isn't a problem. Not to mention the fact that fewer than 1/3 of our MPs are female, that women write only 1/5 front page newspaper articles, that they're less than 1/10 of engineers and that 54,000 a year lose their jobs as a result of maternity discrimination... to name but a tiny sample of issues. It's not 'going too far' to demand equality, and we're certainly not there yet.”

“I don't like to think in terms of writing ten or twelve pages a day. Usually I'm writing a scene, and it's always with the idea, "I wonder what is going to happen." Or sometimes I write about something that affected me emotionally the day before and that I don't want to lose. I'm very unorganized at first; but finally it comes into a structure where consciously I'm working on a novel per se.”

“I’m just thinking that would be pleasant. To be reading, say, out of a book, and you to come up and touch me – my neck, say, or my knee – and I’d carry on reading, I might let a smile, no more, wouldn’t lose my place on the page. It would be pleasant to come to that. We’d come so close, do you see, that I wouldn’t be surprised out of myself every time you touched.”