London is a city that sleeps too much. This is the mould of its quality. A magnetic contract: to reinvent itself on the other side of dream, each day. And such dreams, smouldering against the tidal spine of the river,… — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
“Atkins knows two kinds of birds: seagulls and the ones that aren't seagulls.” — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
“Men of the cloth live in this monologue, it is their due: nobody talks back to a pulpit.” — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
“...drunk enough on earth's liquors to relish the prospect of the knife.” — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
“All kinds of weird stuff going down, whisperings in corners, significant matches struck and blown out. The whores, unoccupied, were drinking heavily. The police,… — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
“I looked at this first sheet, words scribbled confidently on a lined pad. My attempt at making contact the spirit of Llandor. Disaster. I… — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
You can't leave the thing that you are, the house that has become your biography. — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
You'd better make it your business to understand the market. The ability to charm or play the game is useful. — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
Culture isn't all just about what can be tweaked and twitched in the simplest possible way. As people move around, they literally don't see… — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
The world changes, but I want that change to be necessary or respectful of what has happened before. Everything changes, and that's quite right. — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
The only times I'm not relaxed are when I haven't got a project on the go. — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
For the bookish, London is a book. For criminals, a map of opportunities. For unpapered immigrants, it is a nest of skinned eyes; sanctioned… — Iain Sinclair Copy Share Image
