Whenever there's an interview with me, I might read it, but I don't read the comments because they're so hateful sometimes. When someone writes something nasty, I just think, "If that's your contribution to my day, I really don't need your impoliteness." I'm lucky that people are very cool with me and I get a lot of love. I appreciate that.

The problem with being on the road - especially in a hot place like Florida - is that you can begin to think you're on holiday. You can partake of the buffet a little bit more than you should, so you have to have a routine.

Someone once said a cynic is just a disappointed romantic. That really, really sums me up.

I feel like my career has always been a series of collisions and accidents. Being in the right place at the right time. Having the right haircut. It's so mad to think that it happened in the way that it happened.

After half an hour the drug hit me like a sensuous tidal wave. I turned into a tactile temptress and wanted to stroke the whole world. It gave me untold confidence.

One door closes and another one opens.

I just go in my back garden. It's the only place where people don't come and bother you.