I Feel Even Less Patience With Transsexuals.

When I Moved To Brighton From London In 1995, I Was Struck By What I Thought Of As Its Townliness. A Town, It Seemed To Me, Was That Perfect Place To Live, Neither City Nor Country, Both Of Which Like To Think They Are Light Years Apart But Actually Have A Great Deal In Common.

I Wouldn't Know How To Fool A Man Any More. My Deceiving Days Seem So Long Ago.

Writing Is More Than Anything A Compulsion, Like Some People Wash Their Hands Thirty Times A Day For Fear Of Awful Consequences If They Do Not. It Pays A Whole Lot Better Than This Type Of Compulsion, But It Is No More Heroic.

A Woman Who Looks Like A Girl And Thinks Like A Man Is The Best Sort, The Most Enjoyable To Be And The Most Pleasurable To Have And To Hold.

Women, More Often Than Not, Do Things Which Aren't Remotely Relaxing But Are All About Preening, Which Is Just Another Sort Of Work.