I don’t want to get into an early death spiral, when you’re scaling down your life unnecessarily because you’ve already been there or done that. I never want to stop adventuring.

Becoming invisible.

One by one the more vigorous sports and exacting games fall away. Exceptional exertions are purchased only by a more pronounced and more prolonged fatigue. Muscles may relax, and feet and hands slow down; the nerve of youth and manhood may become less trusty. But painting is a friend who makes no undue demands, excites to no exhausting pursuits, keeps faithful pace even with feeble steps, and holds her canvas as a screen between us and the envious eyes of Time or the surly advance of Decrepitude. Happy are the painters, for they shall not be lonely.

Certainly not. As a young child, I remember just dreaming about the Nobel Prize, but that was just a dream. It’s not something I would have ever thought was possible for me.

I had an opportunity many years ago to move to America and be given a daytime TV show. The kids were quite young and I decided not to, but looking back I wish I had done it.

When my daughter and my stepdaughters were feeling unhappy, we used to pretend to unlock something in their heart and then pour golden liquid into them, and it always warmed them. For me, that’s what love feels like – a warm feeling inside.

Years ago in a safari park in South Africa, and getting all dressed up for dinner. Walking across the lawn, I didn’t realise there was a swimming pool that hadn’t been lit and walked straight into the shallow end fully clothed. It still haunts me. I remember trying to get out as if no one would notice.

A travel agent.

I can’t bear people who lie.

Fear of flying.