They say the death of a parent puts you in time because that means there's now no generation standing between you and ordinary death: you're next. I don't buy it.

It isn't what they say about you, it's what they whisper.

I'm not big on the pasty because they say the pastry in the pasty can bring on indigestion.

They haul you up there for, you know, week after week in this kind of star chamber proceeding. Then at the end of it they say, well, we found nothing, but now it's time for special counsel.

I'm trying to adapt - they say you have to adapt to vertigo.

If you speak to any soldier, even now, they say they are fighting for their friends. It always ends up that they're fighting for the man next to them.