My nearest and dearest have always been very careful. I've never had to send Christmas present back yet.

On my days off I pick up our chicken's eggs. My wife and I have five chickens called The Spice Girls. Five lovely chicks. And no, we won't be eating any of them for Christmas dinner.

I've not really had a bad Christmas. Apart from serious things, like when my father died. He rather spoiled the party and I've never forgiven him for falling off the twig on Christmas Day.

I'm always impressed with the way the writers find new and creative ways of killing people. But my favourite has to be the hat pin through the ear.

Football is my guilty pleasure.

Guitar is the most expressive instrument in the world. I don't play much any more. Maybe a bit in private.

I wonder how it takes you, that moment when everything turns to shadows.

People who look at my painting say that it makes them happy, like the feeling when you wake up in the morning. And happiness is the goal, isn't it?

My dad believed in scaring us as we were growing up. Scaring the boys who wanted to date us more.

When you discover that all happiness is inside you, the wanting and needing are over, and life gets very exciting.

The Bill of Rights is a born rebel. It reeks with sedition. In every clause it shakes its fist in the face of constituted authority. It is the one guaranty of human freedom to the American people.

The eiderdown of this 2-0 lead is a lot more comfortable than the blanket of 1-0.

Behind the aesthetic form lies the repressed harmony of sensuousness and reason

The fact that we still live well cannot ease the feeling that we no longer live nobly.

The fact that I lost my son permeates my being.

This generation should entertain this generation. It's only fair. When I was a kid, I mowed the lawn. Now, somebody else's kid can mow the lawn.