I think it's something you learn over a period of time; you learn to be more comfortable within yourself, appreciative of what you've got and what you haven't, you realise the talents you have and what you can do and you take on the chin the things that you have to. It's part and parcel of growing up.

With my dad gone, I made a resolution to myself. I would become the man of the house. Adulthood was still more than a decade away for me.

If you can't motivate yourself to get up and play in front of 30,000-40,000 people, then you're not in the right job.

The place closest to my dad's heart, unequivocally his favourite, was Scarborough. To him it was the epitome of the English coast, postcard perfect.

You can have money piled to the ceiling but the size of your funeral is still going to depend on the weather.

I never really got on that well with Yoko anyway. Strangely enough, I only started to get to know her after John's death.

There were days I could barely struggle into a size 46 or 48, months of larges and XXLs, and endless rounds of leggings with the elastic at the waist stretched to its limit and beyond - topped with the fashion equivalent of a tea cozy. And always black, because I was in mourning for my slimmer self.

I think I've become more aware of aging in the last couple of years because of friends dying of cancer or friends' parents dying and myself - I'm still healthy, but I'm aging, and that's something that I think about more, even though I shouldn't be too concerned.