contemporary poetry is a kind of Reykjavik, a place where accessibility and intelligence have been fighting a Cold War by proxy for the last half-century. — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
You can wait forever for the muse to sit on your shoulder, but most of the time you know what has to be done… — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
…I've had a bad week." What's happened?" Nothing's happened. I've had a bad week in my head, is all. — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
“When they – I cannot bring myself to use the first-person plural in this instance.” — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
“What you don't ever catch a glimpse of on your wedding day - because how could you? - is that some days you will hate your spouse, that you will look at him and regret ever changing a word with him, let alone a ring and bodily fluids. Nor is it possible to foresee the desperation and depression, that sense… — Nick Hornby Copy Share
A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You've got to kick off… — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
I'm still not a very good white wine, but I'm drinkable - you could put me in a punch, anyway. — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
I never mind the accusations of domesticity, as long as people recognise that all of us, even the luckiest, will live lives in which… — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
I wasted the 1980s. I wasted every minute at Cambridge talking to people who knew more about music than I did. — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
“I took her outside on to a little roof terrace that looked like it never got the sun at nay time of the day r year, but there was a picnic table and a grill out there anyway. Those little grills are everywhere in England, right? To me they've come to represent the trumph of hope over circumstance, seeing as… — Nick Hornby Copy Share
“I feel as though I have been having conversations like this all my life. None of us is young anymore, but what has just… — Nick Hornby Copy Share Image
“Read any women's magazine and you'll see the same complaint over and over again: men - those little boys ten or twenty or thirty years on - are hopeless in bed. They are not interested in "foreplay"; they have no desire to stimulate the erogenous zones of the opposite sex; they are selfish, greedy, clumsy, unsophisticated. These complaints, you can't… — Nick Hornby Copy Share
