You've just provided me with the makings of one hell of a weekend in Dublin.

I suppose that anyone who does any kind of creative work some time in their life - especially as you grow into middle age! - you come to a time where you really question more and more frequently, whether you have anything else to offer. And at its worst, you feel utterly bereft of whatever creative force it takes to do that work.

There are always practical decisions to be made about any character you're playing.

At a certain age it just became apparent to me that this was probably the work that I would have to do.

I hate the domestic life.

It's a source of great sadness to me that my father died without having seen me do anything worthwhile. He was constantly having to make excuses for me.

I like to learn about things.