I Did Quite Enjoy The Days When

I Am Human, All Too Bloody Human.

I Can Make The Best French Toast.

We All Had Such Larks. Yes, It Was Hard Work But The Friendships And The Genuine Respect We Had For One Another, That Side I Shall Miss Greatly. I've Stopped Acting, But I Don't Think I've Finished Using My Voice. I Could, And Probably Will, Record The Whole Of Shakespeare's Sonnets. They Live At The Side Of My Bed And Are My Constant Companions.

It's Very Inconvenient Because Every Time I Finish, Let's Say, A Chapter Of A Book, I Think I'm Going To Ring Richard And Then Realize: Oh, Christ, I've Buried Him. I Buried Him Last Year.

I'm Not Working-class: I Come From The Criminal Classes.