I liked working in advertising, but don't believe my taste in art, such as it is, was entirely formed by TV commercials. And I don't feel especially conflicted enjoying a Mantegna one day, a Carl Andre the next day and a brash student work the next.

The art critics on some of Britain's newspapers could as easily have been assigned gardening or travel, and been cheerfully employed for life.

Many people cycle or swim to keep trim. But if swimming is so good for the figure, how do you explain whales?

By and large, talent is in such short supply that mediocrity can be taken for brilliance rather more than genius can go undiscovered.

I don't buy art in order to leave a mark or to be remembered; clutching at immortality is of zero interest to anyone sane.

I have never cared enough about money to worry about spending it, and have been fortunate to make enough to be spoiled rotten.

Its obvious nonsense, but it makes nice people feel good about themselves to do their bit for the planet. Its vanity of a grotesque kind to believe that mankind, and our carbon footprint, has more impact on the future of Earth than Nature, which bends our planet to its will, as it sees fit.