If I could not smile, I think my situation would be even more serious.

Life is extremely short and you cannot dance to current affairs.

There was no quick grief for Andrew because he had been so slowly lost. First from my heart, then from my mind, and only finally from my life.

My paternal grandmother drove ambulances during the regional Blitz, in Birmingham.

We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us.

Life is savagely unfair. It ignores our deep-seated convictions and places a disproportionate emphasis on the decisions we make in split seconds.

Would we be the heroes or the cowards of the piece? Would we follow orders or stick to our principles, if those two things ever conflicted? Would we be the brave ones who still found the capacity for love - and for laughter - even while we were terrified?