Every time we feel satisfied with what we have, we can be counted as rich, however little we may actually possess.

Most of us still caged within careers chosen for us by our not entirely worldly 18-22 year old selves.

We are all more intelligent than we are capable, and awareness of the insanity of love has never saved anyone from the disease.

On paper, being good sounds great but a lot depends on the atmosphere of the workplace or community we live in. We tend to become good or bad depending on the cues sent out within a particular space.

Those who divorce aren't necessarily the most unhappy, just those neatly able to believe their misery is caused by one other person.

There are people who say, 'Oh this guy is quite thick.' I think the reason is that, increasingly, I don't mind being simple in terms of literary expression. Others say, 'No, no, no. He went to Cambridge. He got a good degree. He must be Einstein.'

There is a devilishly direct relationship between the significance of an idea and how nervous we become at the prospect of having to think about it.