It was daylight and I drove everyone home - I was driving a Mini with John and Cynthia and Pattie in it. I seem to remember we were doing eighteen miles an hour and I was really concentrating - because some of the time I just felt normal and then, before I knew where I was, it was all crazy again. Anyway, we got home safe and sound, and somewhere down the line John and Cynthia got home. I went to bed and lay there for, like, three years.

I'd rather stay home and watch the tube than go out and make myself into a spectacle. I'm not uncomfortable with a social life, but it doesn't appeal to me. It doesn't seem to accomplish anything - it just leaves one wanting for more.

When people come up to me expecting me to be just like what they thought a Beatle would be, they're disappointed. I never was a Beatle, except musically. I don't think any of us was. What is a Beatle anyway? I'm not a Beatle or an ex-Beatle or even the George Harrison. I'm just a man. Very ordinary.

If I had half a chance, I'd put acid in the Government's tea.

The nicest thing is to open the newspapers and not to find yourself in them.

The Beatles will go on and on.

Man can become purified, and with divine vision he can see God. You get pure by chanting, then you see Him.