“A warm sunny evening, the plash and gurgle of the waves in the rock pools, the rush of the cold gin. I… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“I write - poignantly, in the most heartfelt way - about how I miss her and how I detest my life in… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“I may be a shit writer,’ I remember him saying once, ‘but I’m richer than any of the good ones.” — William Boyd Copy Share Image
I know many older writers who were very successful and whose books are now out of print, so you have to go… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
Writing a film - more precisely, adapting a book into a film - is basically a relentless series of compromises. The skill,… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
At a time when there's younger writers starting up and it's inevitable that you're becoming less fashionable, at a time when the… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
As a novelist, where do you go to tap into memories, and impressions, and sensations? It's usually, in my experience, your early… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“Here at its extremities the terrified transients gathered, gazing out at the vast refulgent ocean for some sign of security.” — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“We all possess, like it or not, the people we know, and are possessed by them in turn.” — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“A warm sunny evening, the plash and gurgle of the waves in the rock pools, the rush of the cold gin. I thought for… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad. — William Boyd Copy Share Image
With film, you have very limited tools to convey subjectivity - voiceover, the camera's point of view, good acting - but even the very… — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“any man over forty who deliberately combs his hair forward in a child’s fringe has something suspect about him,” — William Boyd Copy Share Image
There are things in life we don't understand, and when we meet them, all we can do is let them alone. — William Boyd Copy Share Image
“Feelings of depression; feelings of frustration; feelings of emptiness in the face of all this randomness - done down by the haphazard, yet again.” — William Boyd Copy Share Image
