The last thing you know about yourself is your effect.

I don't think they'll ever make a retro Bond.

When you experience bereavement at a youngish age, you suddenly realise that life is unjust and unfair, that bad things will happen, and you have to take that on board.

To live as an artist requires hard work or some extraordinary good fortune to come your way.

It's amazing how sudden the effect is - it must be the result of a deep atavistic mating urge buried inside us. A glance and you think: 'Yes, this is the one, this one is right for me.' Every instinct in your body seems to sing in unison.

I have teken refuge in the doctrine that advises one not to seek tranquility in certainty but in permanently suspended judgement.

We keep a journal to entrap that collection of selves that forms us, the individual human being.