“I like someone with a really good and dark sense of humour.”

My mum’s always on at me to have children and blames ‘that stupid stage thing you do’ for me not already having a family.

My desire to experiment comes from my attention-deficit approach to cosmetics. I just get really bored, really easily.

If I get in a relationship, it’s always for the long-term; if not, I don’t see the point.

I’m not interested in what other people are doing. That’s their business.

I get to know my regular fans, and they inspire me.

I’m very affected by what I watch and read.

We live in a society where everything’s packaged.

I don’t understand why the accent you speak in has to indicate what level of intellect you have.

Adele’s like a beacon of honesty. Doesn’t compromise, goes to America and she’s still the same sweary cockney.

I’m proud of being British, but I think our aristocracy is overrated.

I don’t feel I fit in with morning television because I’m like a vampire and I like to stay up late.

I have a lot of admiration for people who’ve been in relationships a long time, married for years.

Mum doesn’t like it when I mention that Dad’s a better cook than her. He was born in Spain and spent eight years in Portugal and is exceptional at lots of cuisines.

I’m so used to changing time zones that I can sleep at any time. I’m rarely ever tossing and turning – if I am, it’s really a big deal.

No one ever chats me up; I think they all think I’m taken. Either that or no one fancies me.

My mum came from nothing and didn’t have many opportunities in her youth, and she blames a lot of her social inadequacies on that.

They’re powerful, those songs. At times they’ve been my only way back, the only door out of the dark, bad places the black dog calls home.

The old church tower and garden wall Are black with autumn rain And dreary winds foreboding call The darkness down again.

What other dungeon is so dark as one’s own heart! What jailer so inexorable as one’s self!

The great empire will be torn from limb, the all-powerful one for more than four-hundred years: Great power given to the dark one from slaves come.

God made night, But man made darkness.

It’s her black wings that make her beautiful.

You’d be a fool to think that you leaving me in darkness meant I’d stay there forever.

There were hints of sunrise on the rim of the sky, yet it was still dark, and the traces of morning color were like goldfish swimming in ink.