We don't deliberately set out to offend. Unless we feel it's justified.

McGough: I'm sorry. I'm afraid I've caught poetry. Mr Bones: Oh really? Well, don't worry, sir - I used to suffer from short stories. McGough: Really? When? Mr Bones: Oh, once upon a time...

I hope I will have achieved something lasting.

We come from nothing, we are going back to nothing-In the end what have we lost? Nothing!

She turned me into a newt. ... But I got better.

Death can really absorb a person. Lik most people, I would find it pleasant not to have to go, but you just accept that it's more or less inevitable.

Oh Lord please don't burn us don't kill or toast your flock. Don't put us on the barbecue or simmer us in stock. Don't bake or baste or boil us or stir-fry us in a wok.