He sighed. It was a long sigh, weary and worldly-wise. The kind of sigh you could picture God heaving after six days of hard work and looking forward to some serious cosmic R&R, only to be handed a report by an angel concerning a problem with someone eating an apple.

The right song can turn an emperor into a laughingstock, can bring down dynasties.

For a moment he thought she was about to hit him, which would have been bad, or even start crying, which would have been much, much worse.

I don't know if proud is the right word, but I am somebody who does not, on the whole, have the highest regard for my own stuff in that when I look all I get to see are the flaws.

I was a scholarship minor public school day boy at Ardingly College and later Whitgift School. Then, straight into work as a journalist - a wonderful thing for a writer.

Be boring, knowing everything. You have to give all that stuff up if you're going to muck about here.

I never fell. I don't care what they say. I'm still doing my job, as I see it.