Cells let us walk, talk, think, make love and realize the bath water is cold.

Like the furtive collectors of stolen art, we [cell biologists] are forced to be lonely admirers of spectacular architecture, exquisite symmetry, dramas of violence and death, mobility, self-sacrifice and, yes, rococo sex.

The water was up, there was nothing to do, all nine or 10 of us in there, just wanting [drinking] water. We had a small supply, but we knew it wouldn't last. So when the water went down enough to walk, I waded out to look for supplies.

We've had a number of distributions with basic items such as water and ice. The Temple Foundation has given us a grant to be used to supply food. It's a massive undertaking, and to tell you the truth, it could get a little overwhelming after a while.

Love in a hut, with water and a crust, / Is - Love forgive us! - cinders, ashes, dust.

I would love to work on a Bond film.