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It is terrible to be an unprotected being
Colm Tóibín
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Ending a novel is almost like putting a child to sleep – it can't be done abruptly."[Colm Tóibín, Novelist – Portrait of the Artist, The Guardian, 19 February 2013]
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He had grown fat on solitude, he thought, and had learned to expect nothing from the day but at best a dull contentment. Sometimes the dullness came to the fore with a strange and insistent ache which he would entertain briefly, but learn to keep at bay. Mostly, however, it was the contentment he entertained; the slow ease and the silence could, once night had fallen, fill him with a happiness that nothing, no society nor the company of any individual, no glamour or glitter, could equal
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She noticed then that Conor was watching her.'Are you going for a swim?' he asked her.'In a while. Why don't you go down and check if it's warm enough?''And if it's not warm enough?''We'll still go in. But at least we'll know
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Q: What's the biggest myth about writing?A: That there's any wildness attached to it. Writing tends to be very deliberate."[Colm Tóibín, novelist – portrait of the artist (The Guardian, 19 February 2013)
