I am a big fan of the Impressionists, and in my school days, I was inspired by Caravaggio, Velazquez and Rembrandt.
There's a basic rule which runs through all kinds of music, kind of an unwritten rule. I don't know what it is. But I've got it.
I heard this massive thud. I spun around, and there Keith was, on the ground. He'd cut his gums up on impact, he was very bloody, and clutching his head. I think it was a kind of wake-up call for him.
Jo left me a few months ago for 10 days. I get this note: I'll come back when the real Ronnie comes back.
My real self is probably more creative and more frightening than any sort of drink or drug-induced state.
Amazing, the poisons I used to put in my body. I used to love it.