I've never been more famous than I was, suddenly, in 1986.

Write to amuse? What an appalling suggestion! I write to make people anxious and miserable and to worsen their indigestion.

When a poem doesn't work, the first question to ask yourself is, 'Am I telling the truth?'

I've never been more famous than I was, suddenly, in 1986.

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes, the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes. I wipe them away with a black woolly glove And try not to notice I've fallen in love On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think: This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink. But the juke-box inside me is playing a song That says something different. And when was it wrong? On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care. the head does its best but the heart is the boss- I admit it before I am halfway across

I was single for a long time and felt very much alone in the world, and talk of family values upset me very much at that phase in my life, because I used to think: 'What about people like me?

Possibly I've become less funny as I've been happier.