Basically I wake up in the morning and I think everything's going to be great. I'm really kind of optimistic, and I look forward to a new day. I pick up 'The New York Times,' and I look at the front page and realize that once again I'm wrong. I start to fixate on stuff.

Everybody's always asking me about my blood pressure. They did an interview once where they hooked me up to a blood pressure machine and they'd rile me. I'd yell and scream, and then it would just go back to normal in a few minutes. Everything else is probably rotting, but the blood pressure is spectacular.

Democrats are like a big tortoise that's on its back and can't get up; you can't make jokes about that.

The whole Valentine's thing is fine, but you don't back it up right next to the biggest gift-giving holiday of the year. Unbelievable. And we find it acceptable.

My ambitions are to be the Stoke number one and England number one, but there are other things I want to achieve in my career as well.

Much before I entered films, my dad walked into my room and saw me busy drawing something at 3 A.M. He stood there for some time and said, 'Whatever career choice you make, you are going to be successful.' I'll never forget those words. It gave me the confidence to be who I am today.

I just lucked into this weird, little obscure cameoesque film career. I just love being a part of film history.

It has always surprised me how little attention philosophers have paid to humor, since it is a more significant process of mind than reason. Reason can only sort out perceptions, but the humor process is involved in changing them.