Can I say anything good about Ken Livingstone? A long time ago he did some good things, but I can't now remember what any of them were.

I have as much chance of becoming Prime Minister as of being decapitated by a frisbee or of finding Elvis.

It is just flipping unbelievable. He is a mixture of Harry Houdini and a greased piglet. He is barely human in his elusiveness. Nailing Blair is like trying to pin jelly to a wall.

My speaking style was criticised by no less an authority than Arnold Schwarzenegger. It was a low moment, my friends, to have my rhetorical skills denounced by a monosyllabic Austrian cyborg.

It is possible to have a pretty good life and career being a leech and a parasite in the media world, gadding about from TV studio to TV studio, writing inconsequential pieces and having a good time.

My policy on cake is pro having it and pro eating it.

The only reason I wouldn't go to some parts of New York is the real risk of meeting Donald Trump.

My ideal world is, we're there, we're in the EU, trying to make it better.

There is absolutely no one, apart from yourself, who can prevent you, in the middle of the night, from sneaking down to tidy up the edges of that hunk of cheese at the back of the fridge.

In 1904, 20 per cent of journeys were made by bicycle in London. I want to see a figure like that again. If you can't turn the clock back to 1904, what's the point of being a Conservative?

I am supporting David Cameron purely out of cynical self-interest.

Then be human. Let go and move on. They who hurt you cannot expand their mind. But surely you can.

A good lecturer is shaped from a good researcher with good philosophy, but not vice verse.

I never got down with conveying a larger-than-life vibe.

My parents are famously not part of the gestalt of the fashion industry.

Nothing brings fear to my heart more than a floating point number.

A cry-wanking scene is the struggle to live, in a single moment.

Wherever there is persuasion, there is rhetoric, and wherever there is rhetoric, there is meaning.

Did you ever observe that immoderate laughter always ends in a sigh?

These men both publicly and privately have done so much for me. Without Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick I would be living in a little motel just around the corner here, trying to make ends meet.

I would always cast Meryl Streep for everything. I would do with something inspired by the work of Guy Bourdin, my favorite photographer.