“For fifteen cents a day you can feed an African, they eat pennies.”

I’m a big fan of the Mars Bar Diet. You don’t eat the Mars bar, you stick it up your arse and let a rottweiler chase you home.

I’d seen people overstay their welcome and I didn’t want that to happen at all.

In racing, I wanted to be a winner and to be a winner, you have to be willing to roll the dice.

I’d rather try and fail than not try at all, as they say

I am going to miss that time when you take that corner better than anybody else could have taken it on that lap or you do that great qualifying lap or you make that great pass or you bring a crippled car home.

Luckily, many other people tell me how they have had a particular landscape photograph of mine in their office or bedroom for 15 years and it always speaks to them strongly whenever they see it

We are living in 1937, and our universities, I suggest, are not half-way out of the fifteenth century.

I’m a school dropout. So, at the age of 16, I moved to Mumbai to try my luck on some business.

It is true that the king has made a truce with the duke of Burgundy for fifteen days and that the duke is to turn over the city of Paris at the end of fifteen days.

Do I feel like I’m 65? No. I feel like I’m 15. That’s my problem.

Television is 15 hour days. Movies are 18 hour days. And it’s 18 hours of doing not a thing.

Let alone 15 minutes – to decide what you think about it.

You do live longer with bran, but you spend the last fifteen years on the toilet.