I like to play the grey areas in life - that's the most uncomfortable place to be. Nobody likes to be in that in-between state where there don't know what's going to happen. There's a lot of tension in that, and a lot of stuff to play with - where it's uncomfortable and awkward and sad and scary.
The White Company offers its loyalists an altogether better, whiter world. The White people have edited out any colours that aren't white, off-white, milk chocolate, grey, taupe or black. They can't be doing with Johnnie Boden's cheery Sloane jokes, his spots and stripes, his occasional 'if it's me, it's U' loud colours.
There are infinite shades of grey. Writing often appears so black and white.
You know, I don't talk about the characters that I play. Years ago, I was a little timid about it and I kind of squirmed when I was asked, 'Could you tell us something about your character.' Now with a little self-confidence that comes with the grey beard, I just flatly refuse.
When you have heart disease, you start to be tired of everything. It's like getting older. You become more white, and after that, grey. You have no feeling for anything.
On 'Grey's Anatomy' I wouldn't care what I was playing - I would play a corpse, 'cause I love it that much. It is deep true love, and it will never die.
Middle age is when your old classmates are so grey and wrinkled and bald they don't recognize you.
There are people who can achieve huge success in life, while adding a bit of fun and a splash of colour to this increasingly grey world.
I don't do grey. I like my colour, my style.
One of my most vivid memories of the mid-1950s is of crying into a washbasin full of soapy grey baby clothes - there were no washing machines - while my handsome and adored husband was off playing football in the park on Sunday morning with all the delightful young men who had been friends to both of us at Cambridge three years earlier.