How vulgar, this hankering after immortality, how vain, how false. Composers are merely scribblers of cave paintings. One writes music because winter is eternal and because, if one didn't, the wolves and blizzards would be at one's throat all the… — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
“In the next room a freckly girl Julia's age sat in a wheelchair. One of her legs wasn't there. She'd probably love to have… — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
“... Ethical cyberexplorers are responsible, yeah? We are friendly ghosts in the machine, not poltergeists or hooligans. We are a growing breed. Over sixty-five… — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
“I succumbed. Late-fifteenth-century verb, Old French succomber or Latin succumbere, but a basic necessity of the human condition, especially mine.” — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
“The second tunnel’s a Ministry of Defence tunnel...dug for a nuclear bomb shelter. The entrance is in the garden center at Woolworth’s in Great… — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
War's an auction where whoever can pay the most in damage and still be standing wins. — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
The human world is made of stories, not people. The people the stories use to tell themselves are not to be blamed — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
So little is actually worthy of belief or disbelief. Better to strive to coexist than seek to disapprove . . . — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
I elbowed my way into the grubby café, bought a pie that tasted of shoe polish and a pot of tea with cork crumbs… — David Mitchell Copy Share Image
