There's nothing better than just staring at a buttercup, struggling to make an impact on the world.

I was a solicitor once, so I'm truly grateful because I know what it's like to have a proper job.

I worked in a chicken factory, in a steel foundry, I worked on the bins for a year or so. It started as a summer job, but I stayed on because I liked it very much. I liked it that it made you very fit, doing all the lifting and that, so I could wear short-sleeved t-shirts, which I'd never been able to do before!

I used to like getting cups and putting tiny bits of food and liquids in them. I'd grow mould plumes in the dark wardrobe of my little back bedroom. Not to eat them, mind - just to admire the growing power.

Throughout the '90s and early 2000s, our financial industry and governments leaned on a snake-oil mirage of wealth creation, a bubble predicated on the obvious falsehood that things could only get better.

Money without brains is always dangerous.

A woman at the Limited once asked me, 'Why do you work?' She said, 'You made a lot of money as a young man, so why are you still working?' I had never thought about it before. Forced to consider it, I told her, 'You know why? Because I think that if you stop to smell the roses, you'll get hit by a truck.'

Well, it's the last step of the civil rights movement: You know, wrap your hands around some money, right?