“When you get pure joy out of ‘being’ rather than ‘doing’ or ‘seeing,’ that’s when you realize how big and unexplainable some things are and being a dad is one of those very few things.”

I like Math because there’s only one right answer.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, a little bit, but there’s a certain maturity level that just comes with experience and growing up.

My dad Alan loved Westerns and we watched them together when there wasn’t much else on TV. I had toy cowboys I’d call Richard Widmark or Gregory Peck and we’d restage the Battle of the Alamo.

My dad never really wrote what he thought. None of his inner rage and darkness and problems, which we all have, made it on to the page. For him, writing was a process of making everything appear funny.

I was 41 when I became a dad. I try to be as much fun as my father was, but I’m at home more – and less of a disciplinarian.

But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words Hi, Dad!

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.

Really, I didn’t know my dad very well. He and my mother split up after the war. I was raised by my maternal grandmother and grandfather, and by my mother.

My dad challenged every president from President [Dwight] Eisenhower and Vice President [Richard] Nixon to President [J.F] Kennedy.

As my father used to tell me, the only true sign of success in life is being able to do for a living that which makes you happy.