The beachcomber goes looking for trouble, everything he finds is a sign of trouble. The writer is the same; without trouble he has nothing to work with, so he picks over the tide line, over the bits and pieces of… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
Wherever I went I felt like the last person awake in a room full of sleepers — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
“Where I had expected to appreciate the monuments and love the natural environment, the reality was entirely the reverse. The immense beauty of many… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
I've been a writer and a parent since adolescence, it feels like, and I'm still making both gigs up as I go along. I… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
Surviving is the strongest memory I have; the sense of having walked on water. — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
“Few landscapes have been so deeply known. And fewer still have been so lightly inhabited.” — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
“Life was something you didn't argue with, because when it came down to it, whether you barracked for God or nothing at all, life… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
“Shit, he said as a great, green glut of water poured up at our feet. I wonder what the ordinary people are doin today.” — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
I guess it must be a time-of-life thing, looking back and trying to make some sense of who I am and where I've been.… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
Will you look at us by the river! The whole restless mob of us on spread blankets in the dreamy briny sunshine skylarking and… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
The night is full of stories. They float up like miasmas, as though the dead leave their dreams in the earth where you bury… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
I grew up in a whaling town. We didn't stop whaling in Australia until 1978. And I've always lived in fishing communities. You could… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
There is nowhere else I'd rather be, nothing else I would prefer to be doing. I am at the beach looking west with the… — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
“Rare as rocking-horse turds, these days, feeling halfway to decent, with barely a sick twinge, and he was damned if he’d waste” — Tim Winton Copy Share Image
