There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the Great American Novel if your name is George R. R. Martin or Suzanne Collins. You guys are doing great; somebody give them genius grants. I had never before read a 1,000-page book, and now I’ve read like 5 of them. If Westeros had subways things would move along much faster, George. Think about it. (Unless it was a weekend! Then they’d have shuttle buses between King’s Landing and Riverrun like only once every few hours. Ugh!) And obviously Katniss Everdeen should have dated both those dudes in the book rather than suffer the guilt and sorrow of having to choose just one. Let’s stop living in the 20th Century, with all its bullshit morality and monogamy. Hot people can do whatever the hell they want. Those two whatstheirnames would be like, “Aw, Katniss, but I love you so much.” And she’d be like, “If you truly loved me you’d make out with each other.” And then they would and then everything would be awesome. But overall, Martin and Collins get a billion gold stars. The rest of you novelists, who knows what you’re thinking.

Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night’s sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever. The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too.

I stuffed myself with Cheetos yesterday and then someone said: “Oh no, you will have to work all that off tomorrow.” And I was just like: “I don’t care, the stuff tastes amazing.” As the saying goes: One moment on your lips, forever on your hips. But what to do, when the moment is so great?

I was walking down the street one day, and I heard this person going ‘Sybil!’ and I thought, ‘What?’ I turned around, and it was Michelle Dockery, who plays Mary. And I realised, ‘Oh, that makes sense.’ But for a moment, I thought, ‘Are you kidding me?’ So, no, I don’t get recognised.