“Ally MacLeod thinks that tactics are a new kind of mint.”

Sometimes there’s a tackiness about Route 66 that out-tacks any tackiness I’ve ever seen anywhere else. And the Meramec Caverns are the pinnacle of that tack.

I set out to be a cross between Lenny Bruce and Robert the Bruce – my main thrust was the body and its functions and malfunctions – the absurdity of the thing.

I think age is terribly overrated. You’re okay as long as you don’t grow up. By all means grow old, but don’t mature. Remain childlike, retain wonder, the ability to be flabbergasted by something.

I loved Japan. I used to read a lot about it when I was a child. And I always wanted to go. And it was delightful. I absolutely loved it. What a smashing place.

I don’t have wild dogs chasing people with scripts away from my door. I get my share. I’ve done okay. But I usually do independent stuff because that’s mostly what I’m offered.

When I was 12, we went from Glasgow to Aberdeen on a school trip. It was called fresh air fortnight.

There’s nothing like it, but it’s not as good as you think it’s going to be. . . . I was disappointed because there are records of people finding things that have been there for years. I was hoping for a shirt button, or my club’s badge – but not a sausage.

Don’t buy one of those baby intercoms. Babies pretend to be dead. They’re bastards, and they do it on purpose.

In Mexico, everything on the menu is the same dish. The only difference is the way it’s folded.

I don’t understand art-speak. My pictures are big doodles. I’m amazed what people come up with when they look at them.

There’s a fine line you have to tread because you don’t know who is out there in the auditorium. A lot of people are too easily offended.

Life is supposed to be fun. It’s not a job or occupation. We’re here only once and we should have a bit of a laugh.

I was brought up as a Catholic. I’ve got A-level guilt.

There’s one of a figure with two heads that somebody thought must be a comment on the state of matrimony. None of it is a comment on anything.

I loathe hecklers. I haven’t got a good syllable to say. When you come out of the club circuit and into the concert hall, they should be gone.

I don’t believe in angels, no. But I do have a wee parking angel. It’s on my dashboard and you wind it up. The wings flap and it’s supposed to give you a parking space. It’s worked so far.

For art to be ‘unpolitical’ means only to ally itself with the ‘ruling’ group.

There is nothing as dull as an intellectual ally after a certain age.

These allies are the hallucinogenic plants and the mysterious teaching entities, luminous and transcendental, that reside in that nearby dimension of ecstatic beauty and understanding that we have denied until it is now nearly too late.

Inflict the least possible permanent injury, for the enemy of to-day is the customer of the morrow and the ally of the future

The passion for power over others can never cease to threaten mankind, and is always sure of finding new and unforseen allies in continuing its martyrology.

I considered her my ally, because, like me, she was imperfect.

We should be wary, particularly with our closest friends and allies, of breaking down the trust and confidence that lie at the foundation of relationships.

We must rely on our allies and foreign governments to share information and data to secure our country.