I used to dream, and I used to vow; I wouldn't dream of it now.

Long hair is an unpardonable offense which should be punishable by death.

I normally live in Los Angeles, if you can call it normal living.

The rhino is now more or less extinct, and it's not because of global warming or shrinking habitats. It's because of Beyonce's handbags.

It's so easy to laugh, It's so easy to hate, It takes guts to be gentle and kind.

I've never intended to be controversial but it's very easy to be controversial in pop music because nobody ever is.

I do think it's possible to go through life and never fall in love, or find someone who loves you.

Robert Smith is a whingebag.

Shyness is nice, but shyness can stop you from doing all the things in life that you'd like to.

Artists aren't really people. And I'm actually 40 per cent papier mache.

He referred to me as an 'insufferable puffed-up prat'. This is a bit rich coming from a man who actually married his own mother.

Your love is blissful, graceful, and divine. When it touches me, it burns me with joy to purify.

Cherubs fan our foolish fires, filling hearts with mad desires. They prick our pride and haughtiness with quick, angelic naughtiness.

At times you have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful. What you'll discover is yourself.

An article on playwrights in the Daily Mail , listed according to Hard Left, Soft Left, Hard Right, Soft Right and Centre. I am not listed. I should probably come under Soft Centre.

Aurora is right,” Willa said, sounding sad to be agreeing with her.

I believe in friendly compromise. I said over in the Senate hearings that truth is the glue that holds government together. Compromise is the oil that makes governments go.

I always loved movies and the cinema; we always used to go to see films as a family.

Then everything was still. Absolutely still.

A charity dollar has only one life; a Social Business dollar can be invested over and over again.

Our lives are but specks of dust falling through the fingers of time. Like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.