You get people who come to London, sever links with where they come from, and then when they need people, there's nobody there. To feel like you can't go back home would be a horribly sad place to be, as is mistaking fame for genuine love and affection.

What a book a devil's chaplain might write on the clumsy, wasteful, blundering, low, and horribly cruel work of nature!

We are shallow because our media are so horribly shallow. Every morning, I peruse the papers, and there is so little to read in them. It is the same with radio - all that noise, that artifice.

I am tortured when I am away from my family, from my children. I am horribly guilt-ridden.

I want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.

I can remember being at Sandringham, for the first time, at Christmas. And I was worried what to give the Queen as her Christmas present. I was thinking, 'Gosh, what should I give her?'. I thought, 'I'll make her something.' Which could have gone horribly wrong. But I decided to make my granny's recipe of chutney.

Anger and bad experiences used to fuel my performances, but it was horribly draining.

If she spoke, she would tell him the truth: she was not okay at all, but horribly empty, now that she knew what it was like to be filled.

We lead such horribly scripted lives that the voice of God and the majesty of His movements that give substance to that voice are not heard because they don't fit the script. Therefore, we become deaf by our own design.

Bridge-players tell me that there must be some money on the game 'or else people won't take it seriously'. Apparently it's like that. Your bid - for God or no God, for a good God or the Cosmic Sadist, for eternal life or nonentity - will not be serious if nothing much is staked on it. And you will never discover how serious it was until the stakes are raised horribly high, until you find that you are playing not for counters or for sixpences but for every penny you have in the world.

One of the few good things about modern times: If you die horribly on television, you will not have died in vain. You will have entertained us.

I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.

Most of us really aren't horribly unique. There are 6 billion of us. Put 'em all in one room and very few would stand out as individuals. So maybe we ought to think of worth in terms of our ability to get along as a part of nature rather than being the lords over nature.

What a book a devil's chaplain might write on the clumsy wasteful blundering low and horribly cruel work of nature!

I am tortured when I am away from my family from my children. I am horribly guilt-ridden.