Michael Jackson plays the wounded puppy very well. 'I must be the loneliest man in the world'. Well, you're not a man. And the loneliness is self inflicted, so sod off you pathetic puerile pimp. I wonder what color his willy is.

Heaven is on this earth. There are no angels on the clouds with twanging harps... That's just another man's fantasy.

There are no limits to where our brains can take us. We are, if there be a God, God's gracious creation.

I applaud the effort it takes to put a record together.

My entire life, socially, was all around the Maggie era. That was the great challenge as a Sex Pistol was how to deal with Margaret Thatcher. I think we did rather good.

We need wealthy dogs off the seats of power. They're taking us back to feudalism and I really don't want that. But I'm very far from being a socialist.

I keep falling off the edge of the stage because I can't see it. I can't see my wrinkles in the mirror either, though.