I grew up in Ditchling. It was an idyllic village at the foot of the South Downs. In those days, the village was full of artists and sculptors.
James Agate, a great critic of the day, advised me that the way to learn your job properly was to learn Shakespeare, so I went to Stratford. It really sorts out the men from the boys.
An actor who knows his business ought to be able to make the London telephone directory sound enthralling.
Being a non-swimmer, I've never been excited by the sea so avoid it on holidays.
Whatever part I'm playing, I always carry with me something that's been used by an illustrious predecessor. I'm a great believer in a touching of hands. I have daggers belonging to Henry Irving and Sarah Siddons.
I have a disgracefully sweet tooth. My younger brother and I, all we care about are puddings. You can keep your smoked salmon and caviar.
I've been very fortunate. I've been in theater, films, television, radio, tragedy, comedy, farce - I've been in a musical and in music halls, in pantomime. I was once ringmaster in a circus.
I remember once saying in a television interview that the only things I hadn't been in were the opera and the ballet. Two days later, I got a call from Lord Harewood, of the English National Opera, saying "Would you like to be in 'Ariadne auf Naxos?'"
You come across quite ordinary, nondescript people in daily life, and I don't see why you should be subjected to them on the stage, too.
I need to know who the audience are in any particular play. It's no good forgetting that they're there.
I'm really not livable with when I'm rehearsing because I'm living the character.
