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Ah, my dad's whistle. On holidays when I was a kid, we would all be off in the rock pools along the beach. When it came time to go, we'd hear the whistle and we'd all come running. Like dogs!

I can't whistle. My husband makes fun of me for that.

The whistle is always waiting to be blown, and in some ways, it gets me to do better work.

There was a train that would come by our house every night, and I'd hear the whistle blow. That is the sweetest memory I have.

Working on 'Lonely, I'm Not' - I love the material so much, and it's spring in New York, so I'm walking home whistling every day.

I was taught to whistle as a little girl by an undertaker. I used to sit in his workshop, watching him planing wood for the coffins, and he used to whistle all the time - and eventually I started whistling, too. I can whistle anything, particularly trumpet tunes from Classic FM.

As humans we like to laugh at our fears, we like to whistle in the dark.

I can whistle with my fingers, especially if I have a whistle.

One of my real goals was to hear someone whistling a song I'd written.

I drank some boiling water because I wanted to whistle.