I'm simply pointing out that what happens to us isn't the whole story. That I continue to exist even when we're not together.

my friends don't seem to be friends at all but people whose phone numbers I haven't lost.

I'm very good at the past. It's the present I can't understand.

Because music, like color, or a cloud, is neither intelligent nor unintelligent - it just is. The chord, the simplest building block for even the tritest, silliest chart song, is a beautiful, perfect, mysterious thing, and when an ill-read, uneducated, uncultured, emotionally illiterate boor puts a couple of them together, he has every chance of creating something wonderful and powerful. All I ask of music is that is sounds good.

The chief attraction of the opposite sex for all of us, old and young, men and women: we need someone to save us from the sympathetic smiles in the Sunday-night cinema queue, someone who can stop us from falling down into the pit where the permanently single live with their mums and dads.

He's at the chocolate teapot end of the competency scale.

In other words, it's one of those books you thrust on your partner with an incredulous cry of "This is me!