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Everything was fine, and she had the rare, new sensation of being exactly where she wanted to be.

David Nicholls

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David Nicholls
Age: 57
Born: 1966
Born: November 30
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Eastleigh Town
Everything
Sensation
Sensations
Rare
Exactly
Fine
Wanted

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These days grief seems like walking on a frozen river most of the time he feels safe enough, but there is always that danger that he will plunge through.
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You can't throw away years of your life because it makes a funny anecdote.
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I've been a compulsive reader for as long as I can remember.
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He has found himself more and more reliant on her at exactly the point that she has become less available to him.
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She shouldn't speak her thoughts nothing good ever came of speaking your thoughts.
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An adaptation leads the cinema-goer to the original to find out what they're missing and if they already know the book, it can still illuminate a theme, a character, an idea.
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Cuddling was for great aunts and teddy bears. Cuddling gave him cramp.
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He put one hand lightly on the back of her neck and simultaneously she placed one hand lightly on his hip, and they kissed in the street as all around them people hurried home in the summer light, and it was the sweetest kiss that either of them would ever know. This is where it all begins. Everything starts here, today. And then it was over.
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What must that be like? To be admired before you’ve even said a word, to be desired two or three hundred times a day by people who have absolutely no idea what you’re like?
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…and Emma felt another small portion of her soul fall away.
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Today. This bright new day that awaits us
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Screenwriting is always about what people say or do, whereas good writing is about a thought process or an abstract image or an internal monologue, none of which works on screen.
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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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She had never been a proficient flirt. Her spasms of kittenish behaviour were graceless and inept, like normal conversation on roller skates. but the combination of the retsina and sun made Emma feel sentimental and light-headed. She reached for her roller skates.
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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.
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As new dawns go, this one is depressingly like the old dawn.
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Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will. I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry.
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We're not ourselves, are we? I'm certainly not myself, not anymore. And you're not either. You don't seem yourself. Not as I remember you.
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I love Billy Wilder, and I love the way that his films can be very touching and very moving and very romantic, and at the same time there's always a little cynical undertone, there's always something that undercuts things.
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The fact was I loved my wife to a degree that I found impossible to express, and so rarely did.
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