I think as time goes by you'll get female comics who are weirder - you'll get a female Mighty Boosh.

I am very short-sighted, and if I don't like a situation I take my glasses off.

I wouldn't say I was grumpy. It's more pathological - I have seismic tantrums. I get red in the face and cry at least three times a week, and I have to lie down and have a nap afterwards.

People often ask why comedy is harder for women, and the reason is because a tampon will sometimes fall out when you're on stage. Blokes don't have that worry.

Anyone who has dead straight hair wants curls.

I can eat a man, but I'm not sure of the fiber content.

Without fake tan I have the skin tones of a dead jellyfish.

Well, I'm not good with sliminess. I hate the thought of creatures that have slime on them or creatures that leave a slimy trail. At home, the sight of a slug can bring up my breakfast.

I'm a schizophrenic mix of wannabe glamourpuss and absolute slob, and my style is very much magistrate-meets-barmaid.

Well, I really don't like heights. I don't get on the top deck of a double-decker because that's a bit high for me. I always feel that I'm going to hurl myself off, so heights are a problem.

I love fashion, but I don't come from a background of loving clothes, and I remember feeling badly dressed from a young age.

For the sake of our health, our children and grandchildren and even our economic well-being, we must make protecting the planet our top priority.

I never ask for mercy and seek no one's sympathy.

I had a very lovely childhood, and, being an only child, I'm very close to my mom and my dad.

[A] power equal to every possible contingency must exist somewhere in the government . . .

Coincidence may be described as the chance encounter of two unrelated causal chains which - miraculously, it seems - merge into a significant event.

The commonest objection to birth control is that it is against nature.

We do not truly know what love is unless we know Christ.

Labor is cheap, friends are expensive, but sons are priceless.

What is a mom but the sunshine of our days and the north star of our nights.

As the pearl ripens in the obscurity of its shell, so ripens in the tomb all the fame that is truly precious.