Who Cleft the Devil's Foot?

So, two days ago I was eight feet from Neil Gaiman. For an hour. I congratulated him on his investiture into the Baker Street Irregulars.

*frantically wards off attack from crankykitten*

Some quotes are warranted:


"For example, I am a wuss. Hand me your liver, I will probably faint."

*someone's LOUD cellphone rings
Neil Gaiman: [looks straight at perpetrator] "Is that embarassing when that happens?"

[on why he does not consider himself a novelist]:
"Because I have met novelists. They write novels. They consider short stories a strange departure from an ideal form."

[on the idea of suspension of disbelief and why it is integral to all forms of writing, non-fiction and fiction, as well as the obvious genres like science-fiction and fantasy]:
stopped reading a book on 20th century culture after the third page because, he said, "the author wrote 'the exampe of the Baskerville Hound, which did not howl in the night time', and I said, No, the Hound of the Baskervilles did most certainly howl in the night time, what you're thinking of is the dog in Silver Blaze, and you are an idiot."

(This last bit made me unaccountably pleased)