About every four years, someone says to me, "I've got a friend who looks exactly like you." What can you say to this?

Listening to Chris Moyles on Radio 1 is the most miserable thing any human being can do, but attending awards ceremonies isn't far behind.

An uninspiring canvas becomes a glamorous masterpiece when it is reattributed to a better-known artist.

Reading the play at home, however fulfilling, can never be the vivacious experience that Shakespeare intended.

The outfits come and go but there is a constant that I like about the catwalk model: the snotty expression.

The real change that paintings undergo is in the perceptions of the viewer.

My sister-in-law believes that few narratives are so tightly constructed that you can't skip boring bits and still keep abreast of what's going on.