I feel starved for moments of goodness in humanity. I just like anything that creates a moment of joy. I’m not kidding, when somebody’s really laughing, it’s just so good.

I can, and do, walk the street. No one bothers me or anything, because most people wouldn’t know who I am.

My desire to fit in was just as real as anybody else’s. All of the moving around, having parents from London, always being in new schools, I felt like an outsider. I just tried to empathise with people’s anguish or angst or whatever it was. If somebody was a bully, I would always try to think about why they were the way they were. It didn’t mean that I liked them. I just kind of sympathised with people.
