I'd be hard-pressed to think of anybody who's made me laugh, who's funny, but who's also relentlessly positive.

Everybody is corrupted by hotel rooms. You can't help it. It's the only place in the world where you walk in and the first think you do is steal everything before you take your coat off.

I don't mind most religious people, I talk to them. I listen to them, you know, banging on. "I prayed very hard and then the fairy came." "Did he? Good. Have a biscuit." I only get annoyed when they try and make me see the fairy. "You have to let the fairy into your heart." Look, I wouldn't let him into my garden, okay? I'd shoot him on sight, if he existed, which he doesn't. Now have another biccie and be quiet, will you please?

You're never going to go. Why would you go? It's a disgusting place. It's always wet even when it's dry. There's nothing there. Farmers aren't really people, you know this. They're just necessary, we need somebody to kill cows.

I have a very low level of recognition, which is fine by me.

In the same way, there is some creature gnawing away inside of me, urging me to do things in different ways.

He could dismiss several schools of philosophy by shifting slightly in his chair or toting his whisky glass.