Unlike European mustards that bring out the subtle flavours of food, English mustard makes your nose bleed.

[on pre-EU British passports] You used them to shove aside officials. 'Out of my way, Johnny-foreigner! Reason for visit? Imperialism!'

People walk up to me and say, 'You're not as big as you are on telly, are you?' Well, I don't know. How big's your fucking television?

My grandfather died last week, and we buried him at sea. Well, I say we buried him at sea; it was actually a village in north Wales at the time.

The smell of the ripe fruit is certainly at first disagreeable, though less so when it has newly fallen from the tree; for the moment it is ripe it falls of it…

Look at that crust. Looks like Limp Bizkit isn't just the name of a band anymore.

This is an excellent martini-sort of tastes like it isn't there at all, just a cold cloud.