People are icebergs. So much of us is underneath.

The only people I ever get irritated with are the ones who announce, using my Twitter handle, that they are no longer following me and why.

I once read that you die because you see the Angel of Death, and you fall in love. And you fall in love so hard your soul is sucked out through your eyes, and that's the moment of death. It's a lovely, strange old Jewish legend.

If you don't know it's impossible it's easier to do.

If you were to try and pick him out of a group of boys, you’d be wrong. He’d be the other one. Over at the side. The one your eye slipped over.

We do what we do, because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves.

I'll find you. Don't worry. Just be on your own and I'll find you.