“Well, he's history. You're free to meet the man of your dreams now.”

“I was at Gatwick and I was a mess: breathlessly excited, horribly nervous and hoping, praying, that this might be it. That the man who was belted up preparing for touchdown would be the man I would spend the next sixty years picking up from airports, missing him, loving him, feeding him and, all things going well, having a fair bit of sex with him.”

“He was what the egotistical part of me had always longed for: danger, sexiness, popularity, style, unpredictability. The kind of man who'd always keep me guessing. Just one night with him and i'd already started to wonder if perhaps i'd spent the last two years in a comfortable coma.”

“I didn't know his age or how he liked his tea, I was wearing a terrible coat and I was drunk as a stoat - but this moment felt like it. The one I'd been waiting patiently for since I was a little girl. I'd worked so hard, for so long, at being ok with being single, but all of the things I'd told myself about independence were disappearing rapidly into the cold night. Right now, he felt like the only person who mattered in the whole world.”

“Do you have any idea how attractive you are?Well, I'm better than roseanne Barr, I suppose.”

“Whoever you end up with, you shouldn't be changing a thing for them. Nothing. Don't be with anyone if you can't be you. Because you're bang on just as you are. ”

“Having a man this good looking begging me for sex was the best therapy I could ask for.”