I'd have Nobels, Bookers, Tonys, all of them - if I wasn't so shy
I did it for the money. Well, maybe there was another reason. I was shy. Didn't want to be the man. You know how it is for us introverts.
Seamus Heaney was the only Irish Nobel Prize winner on my books and I was proud enough of my being the making of him.
He came to me one day in a desperate state. "Billy, I've lost my artistic spark, poet's block and all that. Is there any chance you would write the few poems for me? You being a dab hand at the old poetry and all that."