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People think that I must be a very strange person. This is not correct. I have the heart of a small boy. It is in a glass jar on my desk.

I'm not really the type of person who wears my heart on my sleeve. I keep everything inside.

In my office, I have the creative things that kids have made for me over the years. The nice thing about the physical side of life is that I can have them on my shelf.

If something is mine, then I want to keep it.

I have a whole box full of pieces of the Berlin Wall and a heart made from the barbed wire of the Iron Curtain. It's - they're cherished treasures to me now, of course.

If I really like the smell of something - a piece of tar or my goddaughter's plastic doll - I put a tiny piece in a bottle with a label. I keep them in a fridge in my bathroom.

I am my heart's undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.

I have a special place in my heart for working moms - it's a constant pull on your heartstrings.

I fall in love with something and wear it every day until it's destroyed. My most treasured items have a very short shelf life because I love them too much.