I think it’s a question which particularly arises over women writers: whether it’s better to have a happy life or a good supply of tragic plots.

Bloody men are like bloody buses – you wait for about a year and as soon as one approaches your stop two or three others appear.

I think it’s a question which particularly arises over women writers: whether it’s better to have a happy life or a good supply of tragic plots.

Bloody Christmas, here again, let us raise a loving cup, peace on earth, goodwill to men, and make them do the washing up.