Bridget Jones' Baby, at heart is about the gap between how you expect life to turn out and how it actually does.

For me, writing Bridget's [Jones] stories is an instinctive, organic thing, which tends to happen more by accident than design.

I hate Christmas. Everything is designed for families, romance, warmth, emotion and presents, and if you have no boyfriend, no money, your mother is going out with a missing Portuguese criminal and your friends don't want to be your friend anymore, it makes you want to emigrate to a vicious Muslim regime, where at least all the women are treated like social outcasts. Anyway, I don't care. I am going to quietly read a book all weekend and listen to classical music.

I will not Drink more than fourteen alcohol units a week.

With so many dark things to worry about in the world right now, I hope people will just go with the fun and enjoy [ Bridget Jones's Baby: The Diaries].

It is proved by surveys that happiness does not come from love, wealth, or power but the pursuit of attainable goals.

Reminded of favorite poem by Wendy Cope which goes: At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle. The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle. And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle, And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful if you're single.