It probably says something really clinically terrible about my character that I need to get up on a stage and go 'Ra ra ra' in front of people.

I need a healthy injection of cynicism right now.

I was fat! I was pustule-rich! I looked like a pink human grenade! When did I blossom into the irresistible little orchid that I am now? I don't know. Getting taller helps. It spreads out a bit.

I'm really not big on nationalism, to be honest with you. I really don't think it gets people anywhere except near a pile of dead bodies. I'm Irish, yeah, but I don't need to get up on a soapbox about it.

I just wish I had longer. It's very frustrating. As you know, to people over here, cities like [Washington] D.C. are iconic. We know them so well. It's very frustrating to be in one of them for 36 hours and have a show to do because you can't really do anything.

You can't please everyone, nor should you seek to, because then you won't please anyone, least of all yourself.

Men don't know anything! Men don't know when their lives became so entirely awful, when everyone else turned into such a tosser! A man does not know how he came by the half a pie he is holding in his hand. And scientists - those frauds - seize on this, and try to use it as proof of the mysteries of human consciousness and the unknowable nature of the brain, which is rubbish!