She was discovering once again that reading and writing were not the same — you couldn't just soak it up then squeeze it out again.

David Nicholls

David Nicholls

Profession: Novelist
Nationality: British

Some suggestions for you :

You know what I can't understand? You have all these people telling you all the time how great you are, smart and funny and talented and all that, I mean endlessly, I've been telling you for years. So why don't you believe it?

And by the time the train pulls into the station, I find myself actually relieved that Emily's only a figment of my imagination.

Why can't you just love me? Why can't you just be in love with me? You were once, weren't you? In the beginning?

He had always imagined that some sort of emotional mental equipment was meant to arrive, when he was forty-five, say, or fifty, a kind of kit that would enable him to deal with the impending loss of a parent. If he were only in possession of this equipment, he would be just fine. He would be noble and selfless, wise and philosophical.

She liked to ‘leave dishes to soak', an act of self-deception that I've always abhorred.

There is a point in the future where even the worst disaster starts to settle into an anecdote.

Ah, solving that question Brings the priest and the doctor In their.

I've only ever been recognised in the street once. In Sweden, strangely.

The beauty of the ultrasound scan is something that only parents can appreciate, but Emma had seen these things before and knew what was required of her. ‘Beautiful,' she sighed, though in truth it could have been a Polaroid of the inside of his pocket.

I think I became a writer because I used to write letters to my friends, and I used to love writing them. I loved the idea that you can put marks on a page and send it off, and two days later, someone laughs somewhere else in the world.

Don't run before you can walk.

Here people cycled with a reckless swagger, talking on the phone and eating breakfast.

Of course you should study whatever you want. The written appreciation and understanding of literature, or any kind of artistic endeavour, is absolutely central to a decent society. Why d'you think books are the first things that the fascists burn?

Maybe that's just what happens; you start out wanting to change the world through language, and end up thinking it's enough to tell a few jokes.