Oh, where is the Fairy Godmother of explanations when you need her?

Anyone suffering Downton Abbey withdrawal symptoms will find an instant tonic.

In death, we are not defined by what we did or who we were but by what we meant to others. How well we loved and were loved in return.

Men worry about childcare with their wallets, women feel it in their wombs.

I forget the derivation of Boxing Day, but the feeling of wanting to invite your loved ones outside one at a time and punch them in the face, does that come into it somewhere?

God probably thinks it’s worth giving a sense of humor only to those of us who have to laugh at all the rubbish bits that are wrong with us.

When you have kids, there's a tendency to put the marriage stew on the back burner and give it a quick stir now and then. But it's important to remember why you had children with this person.

Working mothers' laughter comes hardest when our double life is revealed for what it is: a juggling act in which the balls can drop at any time, invariably on our own head.

The best musicians answer something in you when you don't even know the question.

Death itself is too big to take in, she already sees that; the loss comes at you instead in an infinite number of small installments that can never be paid off.

The software program for motherhood is impossible to fully download into the male brain. You give them two tasks and they're like, 'I have to change the baby and get the dry cleaning?'

It's a curious idea to reproduce when you don't even like life.

When the shadow is in front of you, all you see is the darkness and forget the sun is at your back.

But there's no emergency kit for marriage. No neat plan you can turn to when the ground shifts beneath your feet.

God doesn't have to try to do supernatural things. He is supernatural. He would have to try to not be. If He is invited to a situation, we should expect nothing but supernatural invasion.

Ere the dolphin dies Its hues are brightest. Like an infant's breath Are tropic winds before the voice of death.

A heart that hurts is a heart that works.

There are very few heroines in literature who have defined their lives morally rather than romantically and likewise but a handful in film.

I'm not living in the shadows anymore. I want to walk in the sun. But I can't do that without you.

Fred Davis, the doyen of snooker, now 67 years of age and too old to get his leg over, prefers to use his left hand.

Let the audience put 2 and 2 together so that it comes up with 4. Let them do that themselves, and they'll love you forever.