“Pantomime is a big thing in the cultural calendar of my country, you know. So subtlety’s not my forte.”

Sometimes people do you a favour when they drop out of your life.

I’d been depressed before, of course. But I’m talking about really depressed. Not just feeling a bit down or sad, a depression that has something to do with biorhythms. I’m talking about the kind of depressed that floats in upon you like a fog.

I come more to Scotland than I ever used to, so I feel more connected to it, more part of the zeitgeist. You know when you realize you have a choice and I’m choosing my homeland. It’s funny: when you get older these things creep up to you.

It’s actually quite a good ethos for life: go into the unknown with truth, commitment, and openness and mostly you’ll be okay.

So if I’m swirling around on some wires, talking to Fred Flintstone, I make it the funnest I can. I also want to be good at it. I don’t want to be a crap cartoon character. I want to be proud I’m a vitamin!

Working with good people is always good.

Kids are more genuine. When they come up and want to talk to you, they don’t have an agenda. It’s more endearing and less piercing to your aura.

I was so scared of going back to the theatre after Hamlet. I didn’t know if I’d do a play again because I was afraid of the power of it.

Finally, the scariest thing about abuse of any shape or form, is, in my opinion, not the abuse itself, but that if it continues it can begin to feel commonplace and eventually acceptable.

The thing with film and theater is that you always know the story so you can play certain cues in each scene with the knowledge that you know where the story’s going to end and how it’s going to go. But on television nobody knows what’s going to happen, even the writers.

I’m quite good, though I say it myself, at making strangers feel at ease.

I had to be a grown-up when I should have been a little boy, and now that I’m a grown-up my little-boyness has exploded out of me. I’ve lived my life backwards.

There are some days when you don’t feel like being Alan Cumming.

Macbeth was the first play I ever read.

My mum always told me I was precious, while my dad always told me I was worthless. I think that’s a good grounding for a balanced life.

Performing a one-man Macbeth feels like the greatest challenge.

For me, it’s about becoming a mogul, owning my own projects, and establishing myself as a funding producer. That’s what’s big to me. The movies and all that stuff are great, but the fact that I’m in a position to do what I want to do, however I want to do it and when I want to do it is bigger.

My dream was bigger than anything else. My fight and me wanting to fulfill what I wanted to be in life. That was enough to keep me strong enough to endure anything.

I feel like whatever you’ve done in your career, good or bad, it’s nothing but preparation for the big events to come.

Motor racing is like one big family, ultimately, and when you come back to it, that’s really what it feels like.

Hopefully I won’t be the last big splash at Under Armour.

My show ‘The Big House’ was picked up; they flew me to New York. I’m about to step on stage to announce Kevin Hart’s ‘The Big House.’ And a hand grabs my shoulder, ‘Kevin no, they just decided to cancel it.’ It’s a serious smack-in-the-face business, and either you can take it, or you can’t.

As if the ocean somehow doesn’t matter or is so big, so vast that it can take care of itself, or that there is nothing that we could possibly do that we could harm the ocean.

As a child, I was aware of the widely-held attitude that the ocean is so big, so resilient that we could use the sea as the ultimate place to dispose of anything.