As a child, I was taught that it was bad manners to bring attention to yourself, and to never, ever make a spectacle of yourself ... All of which I've earned a living doing.

I have no illusions about my looks. I think my face is funny.

All I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air. With one enormous chair; Oh wouldn't it be loverly? Lots of choc'late for me to eat; Lots of coal makin' lots of heat. Warm face, warm 'ands, warm feet, Oh wouldn't it be loverly? Oh, so loverly sittin' abso-bloomin'-lutely still! I would never budge 'til spring crept over my window sill. Someone's head restin' on my knee; Warm and tender as he can be, who takes good care of me; Oh wouldn't it be loverly? Loverly, loverly, loverly, loverly.

I love people who make me laugh!

Whatever a man might do, whatever misery or heartache your children might give you - and they give you a lot - however much your parents irritate you - it doesn't matter because you love them.

And...I think that's what life is all about, actually, about children and flowers.

I went through a period of first successes. Then there was the inevitable change: the bad newspaper articles. Some people don't care about that, but I do. I'm hurt. I feel it. I don't think I've done anything dreadful. Sometimes you do things for reasons the press doesn't know. But I'm happy to go on as I have.