Fiction writing, and the reading of it, and book buying, have always been the activities of a tiny minority of people, even in the most-literate societies.

Hawaii is not a state of mind, but a state of grace.

There are probably more annoying things than being hectored about African development by a wealthy Irish rock star in a cowboy hat, but I can't think of one at the moment.

The Australian Book of Etiquette is a very slim volume.

I cannot make my days longer so I strive to make them better.

You go away for a long time and return a different person - you never come all the way back.

You can't save the rhinos and you can't preserve a culture. I'm very pessimistic. Once it's gone, it's over.

All travel is circular. I had been jerked through Asia, making a parabola on one of the planet's hemispheres. After all, the grand tour is just the inspired man's way of heading home.

Travel is an attitude, a state of mind. It is not residence, it is motion.

Railways are irresistible bazaars, snaking along perfectly level no matter what the landscape, improving your mood with speed, and never upsetting your drink.

Tibet has a very proud people but it's culturally gone and overrun ever since the Chinese took over. It's like saving the rhino. When a species is endangered, it's gone.

The way you live your day is a sentence in the story of your life. Each day you make the choice whether the sentence ends with a period, question mark, or exclamation point.

You cannot free someonewho is caged intheir own self.

When a man strikes another man, he better have a good reason. There is never a good reason for a man to strike a woman.

When you kill somebody in the movies, it matters, whereas in literature it can be allegorical.

The British churchgoer prefers a severe preacher because he thinks a few home truths will do his neighbors no harm.

The form [of literature] matters little to me, classical or not.

There's been almost a dozen films that have been made against me. There's actually more films made attacking me than films I've made.

Clap along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do.

With drooping bells of clearest blue Thou didst attract my childish view, Almost resembling The azure butterflies that flew Where on the heath thy blossoms grew So lightly trembling.

In this age of micro-blogging and two second sound bites, almost no one has the attention span, or time, to read more than a few sentences.