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And it was at moments like this that she had to remind herself that she was in love with him, or had once been in love with him, a long time ago.

David Nicholls

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David Nicholls
Age: 58
Born: 1966
Born: November 30
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Eastleigh Town
Love
Like
Remind
Moments
Long
Time

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No, friends were like clothes: fine while they lasted but eventually they wore thin or you grew out of them.
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She made you decent, and in return you made her so happy
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I'm trying to be inspiring! I'm trying to lift your grubby soul for the great adventure that lies ahead of you!
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I love that sound,' he mumbled into her hair. 'Blackbirds at dawn.' 'I hate it. Makes me think I've done something I'll regret.
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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.
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Be good. Do something good.
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At university, I used to write silly little sketches and monologues, but never fiction.
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Dont run before you can walk
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Being a decent human being will require effort and energy.
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As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little had happened to her.
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I think you actually get a kick out of being disappointed and under-achieving, because it's easier, isn't it? Failure and unhappiness is easier because you can make a joke out of it.
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Everything was fine, and she had the rare, new sensation of being exactly where she wanted to be.
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The future rose up ahead of her, a succession of empty days, each more daunting and unknowable than the one before her.
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Whatever happens tomorrow, we had today and I'll always remember it
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If you're my friend I should be able to talk to you but I can't, and if I can't talk to you, well, what is the point of you? Of us?
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...and once again Dexter is struck by how easy conversation can be when no-one is in their right mind
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To have had fame, even very minor fame, and to have lost it, got older and maybe put on a little weight is a kind of living death.
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She drinks pints of coffee and writes little observations and ideas for stories with her best fountain pen on the linen-white pages of expensive notebooks. Sometimes, when it's going badly, she wonders if what she believes to be a love of the written word is really just a fetish for stationery.
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I still find it absurdly difficult to concentrate on a novel if there's a phone or computer to hand I have taken to locking them outside the room like noisy pets.
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Today. This bright new day that awaits us
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