It is strange to hear your mother talk about being human because, honestly, it's too easy to forget.

I love you more than words. And I am a big fan of words.

I took a photo of us, mid-embrace. When I am old and alone I will remember that I once held something truly beautiful.

That's a big love letter," she says, squinting. I know what I'm going to say and for a moment I wish there was a film crew documenting my day-to-day life: "I've got a big heart," I say.

Anger does not come easy to me. It is something I have to encourage, like a greyhound in second place.

I find that the only way to get through life is to picture myself in an entirely disconnected reality.

For my last birthday, Dad bought me a pocket-sized Collins English Dictionary. It would only fit in a pocket that had been specially designed.

To us and a wonderful evening of love making.

There will be birds and if they write your name in the sky then you can get on the buses and if they don't you have to die on the floor.

I would never say snog. I would say osculate." She looks at me as if to say: why do you exist?

Depression comes in bouts. Like boxing. Dad is in the blue corner.

Seek the spark of divinity within thy soul.

Perception is reality to the one in the experience.

I believe in commitment. I believe in being open and trusting each other and respecting each other completely.

Of all cold words of tongue or pen, the worst are these: "I knew him when -

Daily the world grows smaller, leaving understanding the only place where peace can find a home.

I don't think I'm like Shakespeare.

Worship is admiration becoming adoration.

Actually, I didn't say that.

I am a Christian in the only sense in which He wished anyone to be: sincerely attached to His doctrines in preference to all others.