I mainly get my inspiration for writing from everyday situations and I come up with hypothetical scenarios and I can usually write a lot about that.

I have three brothers. Poor Mum; four boys.

When I come up with something that I feel like people will connect with that makes me happy because I know that it would be something that would just go beyond me.

I feel like so many people get into that place where creating for someone else is selling out and it is so not about that. It is a stupid, kind of pretentious way of thinking.

I feel like writing music is a great chance to create something that extends beyond yourself.

If we all knew how to make that jump from good to great then I think every song would be great.

Something like film, I guess there are so many elements to it, like the dialogue and what makes sense culturally.

There is a balance in between where you can still make art, but it does not have to be insular.

You don't make a film and then be like I am only going to play it in my house and no-one is going to see it - that is ridiculous.

I feel like it is only music where people are like, "You can't do this for other people, you have to do it for yourself." Which I hate.

I think my first song ever was when my cat died. It was this awful, dreadful black cat who was angry and hated everything. Yet I was so upset when it died.

Oh, I have always been proud, I always wanted all or nothing! You see it was just because I am not one who will accept half a happiness, but always wanted all

One of the things I've always enjoyed is moving around and staying fit. Physicality is such a big part of being an actor, but it's also about stillness and silence.

It is not I who have lost the Athenians, but the Athenians who have lost me.

Art is meant to strike us with Reality, not allow us to hide from it.

My family history begins with me, but yours ends with you.

I won't eat anything I can't spell or wouldn't tread in.

Take love when love is given, But never think to find it A sure escape from sorrow Or a complete repose.

Until quite recently dance in America was the ragged Cinderella of the arts . . .

Poor Wales. So far from Heaven, so close to England.

The God who gave us life gave us liberty. Can the liberties of a nation be secure when we have removed a conviction that these liberties are the gift of God?