I am a hard house freak and I don't care who knows.

In the early 2000s, I was introduced to the noble art of kickboxing, it thrilled me, and I loved it. I loved the honour and the discipline, and I also loved the punching.

Someone once pulled me aside and said it was all right to succeed, and I realised that I knew what failure felt like, but I didn't know what success felt like. I've carried that with me ever since.

I'm so thrilled to have been asked to guest in the Doctor Who Christmas Special, I'm such a fan of the show. The read-through was very difficult for me; I wanted to keep stuffing my fingers into my ears and scream 'No spoilers!' Every day on set I’ve had to silence my internal fan-boy squeals!

I don't regret anything that I've turned down, and I don't regret anything that I've done, really.

One of my biggest disappointments is watching the trailer for the second Lord of the Rings film and having Gandalf in it. Why? He died in the first one, why give it away in the trailer just to try and sell 1000 more seats? It's daft.

The older I get, the less I remember.