In the city, I wake bolt upright in the small hours, convinced that intruders are marauding through our apartment despite Swiss bank-style security arrangements.

Too often we forget that an ideal partner is someone who enhances an already full existence.

Having a baby is a disaster for your career. I don't think there's any sympathy.

It's so much easier to count our disadvantages than tot up the mitigating circumstances that generally outweigh the despair.

In romance we feel the need to zoom in and expound on our partner's foibles in intimate detail; in friendship we tend to do the opposite, avoiding confrontation through fear, lethargy or both.

There are more than enough people with serious mental issues who really do need professional help without all the other Toms, Dicks and Harriets rushing to the therapist's couch.

Only those with skin as thick as elephant hide can hope to sail through their teens unscathed by self-doubt and bouts of depression.