Nina nanna has landscaped her garden around the theme of my ball-bags. I wouldn't mind but she's let some gypsies set up camp there and now they're up all night dancing. I haven't had a winks sleep in a fortnight... the swines!

Ben Fogle said that, during his canoe trip around the galaxy, the only thing that kept him sane was the intimate correspondence he kept with my ball bags. Imagine his dismay when he realised they can neither read nor write and the entire episode was brought about by delusional cabin fever.

Finding heroin, it's like God, home, a lover. Just this feeling of being engulfed by warmth, everything moving away, your life, everything, and withdrawing into this beautiful sanctuary.

Have you been out in society recently? 'Cause it's SHIT.

'citing!

I don't like doing anything that makes you sweat if you don't come at the end of it.

I'm sure Hitler was a lovely bloke. You know. Beneath the mustache and all.

Interesting to me is the relentless gratitude to God [by winners of awards]. Because I, myself, believe in God, right, but I kinda think it's a complex idea, God, you know? And if there is an omnipotent, omniscient being controlling all from the infinitesimally small to the inconceivably large, I don't reckon He cares what happens at the MTV VMA awards.

You know, the relationships we 'ave, everything sort of bubbles under the surface. No one ever says what they actually mean, do they? It's all a bit pappy and rubbish.