I still don&#39;t like doing interviews. I hardly do any... I hope this will be the last one for a long while.

The present is the instant in which the future crumbles into the past.

Mr. Crepsley was every bit as composed as he'd sworn he would be. He didn't even shed a tear when the funeral litter was set alight. It was only later, when he was alone in his cell, that he wept loudly, and his cries echoed through the corridors and the tunnels of Vampire Mountain, far in the cold, lonely dawn.

An artist must be a reactionary. He has to stand out against the tenor of the age and not go flopping along.

Written By Andre Maurois

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