I have written the only diet book that I believe needs to exist, and here it is: CHAPTER ONE: Eat a bit less. CHAPTER TWO: Move about a bit more. THE END.

I think it's sad when people stop dreaming, or start losing hope. Because holding onto the bonkers dream might just turn out to be the most marvellous thing you ever did.

Get me a skinny frappuccino. I have no idea what that is - I would like to think you would be presented with a tiny Italian man.

I'm very much in denial that I can't dance. I really go for it, which is almost more embarrassing.

Manicures: Which are basically just holding hands with a stranger for forty-five minutes whilst listening to Enya.

I am not married, no. I wasn't really into the notion when I was younger, but now I think a proposal is the ultimate romantic gesture.

I've never felt like a woman fighting in a male world; I've never felt penalised.