A. N. Wilson

A busybody's work is never done.

I'm boring. My beliefs are neither here nor there.

When Christians start thinking about Jesus, things start breaking down, they lose their faith. It's perfectly possible to go to church every Sunday and not ask any questions, just because you like it as a way of life. They fear that if they ask questions they'll lose their Christ, the very linchpin of their religion.

People become dons because they are incapable of doing anything else in life.

I've never had a study in my life. I'm like Jane Austen - I work on the corner of the dining table.

The United States is the ultimate land of optimistic promise, but it also gave birth to quintessentially pessimistic tragedy: 'Moby-Dick.'

I might be deceiving myself but I do not think that I do have an inordinate fear of death.

Everyone writes in Tolstoy's shadow, whether one feels oneself to be Tolstoyan or not.

My kind publishers, Toby Mundy and Margaret Stead of Atlantic Books, have commissioned me to write the life of Queen Victoria.

Like many people in Britain, I have an affectionate respect for the Queen, and am surprised that I should be having such republican thoughts.

I think that if you can't be loyal to the Church, it's best to get out.

The approach of death certainly concentrates the mind.

Fear of death has never played a large part in my consciousness - perhaps unimaginative of me.

It is the woman - nearly always - in spite of all the advances of modern feminism, who still takes responsibility for the bulk of the chores, as well as doing her paid job. This is true even in households where men try to be unselfish and to do their share.

The scribbler's life is never done.

I've got nothing very original to say myself.

IQ in general has improved since tests first began. Psychologists think that this is because modern life becomes ever more complicated.

When I think about atheist friends, including my father, they seem to me like people who have no ear for music, or who have never been in love.

It seems astonishing to be paid for indulging in pure pleasure. For me to go to Coburg is rather as if a trainspotter was sent for a few weeks to Swindon or a chocoholic asked on holiday by Green and Black.

I believe the collapse of the House of Windsor is tied in with the collapse of the Church of England.