I'm not even sure where home is. Probably Terminal 5. There is a strange sense of calm about arriving back at Heathrow.

Not until he stood at the altar did he achieve a sense of being hale and furnished. It was strange, he thought, that a man would find his surest current in the spot where he felt least worthy.

He's going to make sure it's done. It's always calm, but he had that look.

I think I'm alright as a lyricist, you know? But then what will happen every couple of months or so is that I'll hear a song I've never heard before and feel I've gone right back to square one.

There's something about a Gucci loafer kicking on a fuzz pedal.

I know my lyrics might be weird to some, but they're not like that to me because I know where they come from - I know the secret.