Sophie Kinsella Quotations

Shopping with friends is a great way of still enjoying the thrill of the chase without having to make a purchase. It can also be a real bonding opportunity. Helping your friend find something nice is just as rewarding as helping yourself.

If my writing comes to a halt, I head to the shops: I find them very inspirational. And if I get into real trouble with my plot, I go out for a pizza with my husband.

I think a lot of people still fantasise about that first love and what might happen if they rekindled the relationship.

I never did any training in journalism or in finance, so I really was in the deep end. I got very good at going to press conferences and nodding. I'd figure it out when I got back to the office. Charts and numbers. I've never been great with facts, ever, my whole life. For a journalist, that's not a very good trait.

My earliest, most impactful encounter with a book was when I was seven and awoke early on Christmas morning to find Roald Dahl's 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' in my stocking. I had never been so excited by the sight of a book - and have possibly never been since!

When I'm on a break from writing, I'll log on to Amazon and eBay. The doorbell is constantly being rung by deliverymen.

People used to ask me for advice, and I'd say, 'Please, don't ask me!' Yes, I did economics at Oxford, but that's not the same as having a broad knowledge of personal finance

I change my mind so much, I'm better going on my own. Shopping is a selfish activity anyway.

If you want something you can't afford, think what else that money could buy: a week's groceries, a month's rent, or a weekend away. That will put things into perspective.

My real name is Madeleine Wickham, under which I write dramas with an edge of humour. As Sophie Kinsella its fast, all-out comedies, such as the Shopaholic series.

Being a journalist is good if you want to write books: it teaches you to get beyond the blank screen. My books have been described as froth, but there's scope to be witty and ironic about everything in life.

Philosophy wasn't about facts, it was about ideas. My first essay title was something like: 'How can you know what other people are thinking?' I thought, 'Wow, what an amazing thing.' I really thought deeply for the first time.

To have someone who never makes a mistake, never finds her personal life in disarray, never worries about work-life balance? I think that would be unreal. What Im writing is real.

I love all my characters. I love their weaknesses and flaws. I feel like they're all my best friends and I adore being with them.

I chose to publish the first 'Shopaholic' book under a pseudonym because I wanted it to be judged on its own merits.

I'm a great fan of taking my laptop out and about.

The great thing about being a novelist is that you organize your own day.

I always thought 'chick lit' meant third-person contemporary funny novels, dealing with issues of the day. I mean, it's not the ideal term; when I'm asked to describe what I do, I say I write romantic comedies, cause that's what I feel they are. But I'm quite pragmatic.

I've never written a children's book, but when people meet me for the first time and I say I write books, they invariably reply, 'Children's books?' Maybe it's something about my face.

When I had the idea for 'Shopaholic', it was as though a light switched on. I realised I actually wanted to write comedy. No apologies, no trying to be serious, just full-on entertainment. The minute I went with that and threw myself into it, it felt just like writing my first book again - it was really liberating.

When I wrote my first book, 'The Tennis Party', my overriding concern was that I didn't write the autobiographical first novel. I was so, so determined not to write about a 24-year-old journalist. It was going to have male characters, and middle-aged people, so I could say, 'Look, I'm not just writing about my life, I'm a real author.'

I adore all Agatha Christie's books and turn to them whenever I'm ill or need cheering up.

I am not a label snob and have learned that the thrill of shopping can be just as great, if not more so, when you find a bargain.

I had gone to Oxford to read music. I had done music all my life, but when I got to college I didn't want to do it anymore.

I had no plans to be a writer. My teenaged bid for stardom was to be a pop star... which, ahem, didn't exactly work out.

I'd probably still be a financial journalist now if it weren't for writing novels. Mmm. Fun! I'm much happier writing novels!

My own life has been doubly disconnected, as I've written books under two different names. As an author, your name almost becomes a brand; readers know what to expect.

To some extent, all authors are a little schizophrenic. We lead most of our lives in solitary confinement, living and breathing the books that we're writing.

Some things are best left a blur. Births and Visa Bills.

We all fail to appreciate each day just how much we already possess. Light, air, freedom, the companionship of friends.

There is something exciting about saving up for a special treat. Bring back the piggy bank!

It wasn't until after college that I started writing. I had just applied randomly for jobs in the media and got one on a magazine called 'Pensions World.' So I was writing for a living there and that's when I started my first book.

I'm very lucky. I have a really supportive husband in Henry, and there's my mum, too. I couldn't have a career and manage the kids' routines and household thing single-handedly. I'd just go crazy.

What are they waiting to see?" Sam follows my gaze and I shrug. "Who knows? You could always do a dance, or tell a joke, or... kiss the bride?" "Not the bride," he wraps his arms around me, and gradually pulls me close. Our noses are practically touching. I can see right into his eyes. I can feel the warmth of his skin. "you." Me. "The girl who stole my phone." His lips brush across the corner of my mouth. "The thief." "It was in a bin." "Still stealing." "No it isn't-," I begin. But now his mouth is firmly on mine, and I can't speak at all. And suddenly, life is good.

you can always find something you want.

Everyone's moving on without me, into a world I don't understand.

I can't get over this. Dad isn't Sam's dad? Dad is a friend? How was I supposed to know that? People shouldn't be allowed to sign themselves as Dad unless they are your dad. It should be the law.

Mind your own Brazilian!" The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. Oops. OK. The trick when you've said something embarrassing by mistake is to pretend nothing happened.

I once tried to give him a friendly little "drugs chat". He politely corrected me on every single fact, then said he'd noticed I drank above the recommended guidelines of Red Bull and did I think I might have an addiction? That was the last time I tried to act like the older sister.

That's the way it goes. Some things happen and some things don't. This one is obviously just wasn't meant to be. Except deep down... I still believe it was.

So", says Jack at at last..."you broke up with Connor". Wow. So we're straight to the point. "So", I reply defiantly. "You decided to stay". "Yes, well...", "I thought I might take a closer look at some of the European subsidiaries." He looks up. "How about you?" "Same reason." I nod. "European subsidiaries".

Hi." "Hi." I shrug, as though to say "Whatever." In my peripheral vision I can see Magnus exhale. He looks a teeny bit nervous. "So." "So." I can play this game too. "Poppy." "Poppy. I mean, Magnus." I scowl. He caught me out.

I'm never going to believe a Poirot mystery again. Never. All those witnesses going, "Yes, I remember it was 3:06 p.m. exactly, because I glanced at the clock as I reached for the sugar tongs, and Lady Favisham was quite clearly sitting on the right-hand side of the fireplace." Bollocks. They have no idea where Lady Favisham was, they just don't want to admit it in front of Poirot. I'm amazed he gets anywhere.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about what could have been. It’s too unbearable.

Rule of life. If you bother to ask someone’s advice, then bother to listen to it.

Jeez Louise. I know why rich people are so thin: it's from trekking around their humongous houses the whole time.

Just because of that one disastrous blind date she had last year, where the guy turned out to be fifty-nine, not thirty-nine (He claimed it was a typo. Yeah, I’m sure his finger just happened to slip two spaces to the left).

I bet he never goes on YouTube. He's too busy. It's only tragic cases like you and me who are always online.

You never know how things are going to turn out, however much you plan. But you already know that.

... what would Poirot do? Poirot wouldn't flap around in a panic. He'd stay calm and use his little grey cells and recall some tiny, vital detail which would be the clue to everything.

Great. Just great. One glimpse of his body and I have a full-blown crush. I honestly thought I was a bit deeper than that.

He so did not sit down and have a proper talk with her. I know it. He probably sent her a brief text, saying, Over. Sam.

Every time I mention her, Magnus says, "Are you two getting along?" in raised, hopeful tones, like we're endangered pandas who need to make a baby.

You're working for me cut out the attitude.

I'm lying. I don't just need someone like you. I need you.

If you're single, then I'm single?" What's that supposed to be? Lyrics to a pop song?

Suddenly I've had enough of all this. I've had enough of being made to feel insecure and paranoid and wondering what's going on

I'm sitting at the dinner table, wearing my future mother-in-law's underwear. It's like some twisted dream that you wake up and thinkL Crikey Moses! Thank God that didn't really happen!

And maybe now you'll start treating everybody with respect. Not just the people you think are important.

Obviously this is engagement ring city. Couples are wandering along and girls are pointing through the windows and the men are smiling but all look slightly sick whenever their girlfriends turn away.

There's genuine pain in Eric's eyes. And I feel a stab of guilt. But you can't stay with people because of guilt.

But sometimes you have to be brave. Sometimes you have to show people what's important in life.

Whoever it was, whether I knew them or not, if I could help in some way, I would. I mean, if you can help, you have to help. Don't you think? - Poppy Wyatt

Why didn't I buy a new phone earlier? Why don't I always walk around with a spare phone? It should be the law, like having a spare tire.

Sometimes, when I can't get to sleep, I imagine all the rules I'd invent if I ever got to be in charge of the world.

If I worked at White Globe Consulting, I wouldn't be able to do my job. I would spend all day texting the other people in the office, asking them what was going on today and had they heard anything new and what did they think was going to happen. Hmm. Maybe it's a good thing I'm not in an office job.

You don't always have to know who you are. Sometimes, it's enough just to know what to do next.

It was in the forest. No one saw it or heard it. So did it actually happen?

I feel all agitated, like one of those snow globes you see resting peacefully on shop counters. I was perfectly happy being an ordinary, dull little Swiss village. But now Jack Harper’s come and shaken me up, and there are snowflakes all over the place, whirling around until I don’t know what I think anymore. And bits of glitter, too. Tiny bits of shiny, secret excitement.

I've always had this deep-down conviction that I'm not like everybody else, and there's an amazingly exciting new life waiting for me just around the corner.

My life has changed, and I'm changing with it.

There’s no such thing as ruining your life. Life’s a pretty resilient thing, it turns out.

A real relationship is two-way.

Never give up on something you really want. However impossible things seem, there's always a way.

I'm allergic to family occasions. Sometimes I think we'd do better as dandelion seeds-no family, no history, just floating off into the world, each on our own piece of fluff.

All this time, I wasn't hungry for success, I was hungry.

sometimes you don't need a goal in life, you don't need to know the big picture. you just need to know what you're going to do next!

Life would be a lot easier if conversations were rewindable and erasable, like videos. Or if you could instruct people to disregard what you just said, like in a courtroom.

People who want to make a million borrow a million first

Once you've started cheating, does it really matter what your methods are?

It's just the way things are. And you can't dwell on what might have been. You have to look at what is.

Honestly, shopping beats therapy, anytime. It costs the same and you get a dress out of it.

The thing with giving up is you never know. You never know whether you could have done the job. And I'm sick of not knowing about my life.

For years now I've kind of operated under an informal shopping cycle. A bit like a farmer's crop rotation system. Except, instead of wheat, maize, barley, and fallow, mine pretty much goes clothes, makeup shoes, and clothes (I don't bother with fallow). Shopping is actually very similar to farming a field. You can't keep buying the same thing, you have to have a bit of variety. Otherwise you get bored and stop enjoying yourself.

In the end, you have to choose whether or not to trust someone.

The trouble with giving yourself a pep talk is, that deep down you know it's all bullshit.

It's not enough to believe! Don't you see that, you stupid girl? You could spend your whole life hoping and believing! If a love affair is one-sided, then it's only ever a question, never an answer. You can't live your life waiting for an answer.

The truth is, some relationships are supposed to last forever, and some are only supposed to last a few days. That’s the way life is.

Look into your heart- and go after what you really want.

She believes in love and romance. She believes her life is one day going to be transformed into something wonderful and exciting. She has hopes and fears and worries, just like anyone. Sometimes she feels frightened. Sometimes she feels unloved. Sometimes she feels she will never gain approval from those people who are most important to her. But she’s brave and good-hearted and faces her life head-on.

This is what happens. You tell your friends your most personal secrets, and they use them against you.

It's like I'm thirteen again and he's my crush. All I'm aware of in this entire roomful of people is him. Where he is, what he's doing, who he's talking to.

Honestly, it’s so easy to get what you want from people if they think you’re a psycho.

I love new clothes. If everyone could just wear new clothes everyday, I reckon depression wouldn’t exist anymore.

Don't beat yourself up for not knowing the answers. You don't always have to know who you are. You don't have to have the big picture, or know where you're heading. Sometimes, it's enough just to know what you're going to do next.

If I've learned one lesson from all that's happened to me, it's that there is no such thing as the biggest mistake of your existence. There's no such thing as ruining your life. Life's a pretty resilient thing, it turns out.

When I shop, the world gets better, and the world is better, but then it's not, and I need to do it again. (Confessions of a Shopaholic-the movie)

I’m blushing at my own stupid, nonsensical, meaningless thought process, which, by the way, nobody knows about except me.

There's no luck in business. There's only drive, determination, and more drive.

It really is the year 2007. Which means I must be... Oh my God. I'm twenty-eight. I'm old.