I don't believe in an afterlife. I don't believe in a single or multiple godhead. I respect people who do, but I don't believe it myself. But there's a big but which enters in here. I am much more conscious than I ever was, for obvious reasons, of what it will mean to people left behind once I'm dead. It won't mean anything for me. But it will mean a lot to them. ... So in one curious way I've come to believe in the afterlife as a place where I still have moral responsibilities, just as I do in this life except that I can only exercise them before I get there. Once I get there, it'll be too late.

There are no more interviews.

Oh, man. Well, I hope when we die, it’s the same as before we were born. No one’s really frightened of that enormous, infinite blackness before we were born. No one sits there thinking, “Oh, God, how awful. I was nothing.” So I don’t really see why we should be frightened of that after we die, as long as it is black. I really don’t want to be up there on a cloud playing a harp, meeting some of the people I’ve hated in my life. I can’t imagine a greater nightmare. That would be hell, in fact.

I am so curious. We had my son christened because there may be a god but, equally, my partner is a science teacher, so I am also completely open to the possibility that nothing happens.

Light of the Almighty in my heart.

Resilience, courage and kindness, as compassionate points to follow.

The Bare Necessities.

It’s all a gift. So be grateful for every day.

Becoming a father.

Holding the hand of some random lady at an airport who I mistook for my wife, Shara.