I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad.

The last thing we ever learn about ourselves is our effect.

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.

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.

There is a disconnect between the film Bond and the literary Bond which is their contemporaneity. I don't suffer from that.

I have this lock of hair that keeps falling across my forehead. It drives me mad.

I have to start my real life soon, before I die of boredom and frustration.