Top 50 Sarah Millican Quotes

One thing Aussie telly does well is slightly different versions of programmes we’ve made. The trailers for ‘Celebrity Splash’ prove they don’t just pick the good stuff either.

If an audience is watching you and you’re a bloke – it’s the same as if you’re a woman. They’re expecting the same: to be entertained.

People always say that you shouldn’t read reviews at all, or if you do then believe both the good and the bad ones. I just choose to believe the ones that think I’m brilliant. The ones that don’t, well, I just don’t bother with them.

If you think how many female comics there are compared to how many male comics there are, I think there are quite a few female comics on the TV.

An audience not laughing is nothing when your husband’s just told you he doesn’t love you any more.

Fancy expensive designer shops are out for me as I’m a size 18, sometimes 20, and I therefore do not count as a woman to them.

I’d hate to live where people knew my history. I love familiarity on holiday but not at home, as I’m sure my neighbours would testify – if I’d ever met them.

There’s so much to see and do in Austrailia, but a lot of it is outside so I’ve ben immersing myself in their telly.

I’m very protective of my material. And you have to be, because it’s very easy for people just to steal jokes.

But from my very first gig I’ve always been pretty filthy, but that’s why we have an age restriction. And I make sure that the quotes on the poster say it’s going to be a bit rude.

To say I’ve never seen ‘The Jeremy Kyle Show’ would be a lie. I once woke up too early in a hotel and put the telly on low to help me drift back off to sleep. Then woke up to such loud shouting that I thought the place was on fire.

We all need a big cushiony telly show to fall back on. Like the pair of slippers after you unexpectedly went Christmas shopping in your work shoes. Like the cup of tea when your deadlines are making you cry. Like the hug off someone who matters when it’s cold and you wanted to look nice, not warm.

Forgive me but I’ve been tutted at in Paris a fair few times and I still don’t know if it’s because I was wearing Asda jeans or had the temerity to order food in a restaurant.

I am very new to cooking. At school, our home economics lessons were very poor. We were told to pick a recipe and then cook it. So no actual teaching involved then.

For someone who is rarely on time, my body clock always knows when it’s too early to go to bed and I just lie there in the dark like I’m hiding.

My sister tells people that we’re all funny in our family, but I’m the only one who gets paid for it.

There are a million reasons why I might not do well at a gig. But none of them are because I’m a woman.

I only started driving lessons because of comedy – before that, there’s be no need. There was a bus from where I lived to where I worked and I had a very obliging, mobile sister.

When you look out at somewhere like Hammersmith Apollo and all those people have come just to see you on that night, it’s overwhelming. You can’t rest on your laurels. This tour’s got to be better than the last one because I want people to come to the next one.

I think life is full of moments. And it’s important to remember those moments. Take a mental snapshot if you can. For me, they are either when I feel truly happy or a standout moment in my career.

There are few things I like more than to see old people twinkling. A shopping centre I frequent has Tea Dance Tuesdays and I regularly pop by to see the over- 60s twirling about to a live band.

I’m a huge fan of ‘Glee’. Every episode I watch makes me that much happier, and I think it should be obligatory for all people to watch it. I just love the joy!

The telly’s almost always on. It’s how I wind down after a show. It’s how I relax on a rare night off. It educates me, entertains me and makes a hotel room feel a lot more cosy.

And bookish people who do their homework and get it in on time and it’s good – they don’t have friends at school. I never really got in the cliques. I didn’t have the right shoes or hair.

There is something liberating and defiant about going on stage and saying you are 36 and 13 stone.

My dad is a storyteller. I’ve heard his funny stories 500 times, but I would never stop him because he tells them so brilliantly and still knows where to put the funny bit.

I never got up on stage and thought, ‘I’ll wear a flowery top so I can talk about dark evil things,’ but it just so happens that that’s the way I dress.

You’d expect the third time you do Live at the Apollo to be easier, easier peasier, a doddle. Like riding a bike. Except I can’t ride a bike so that analogy has always been lost on me.

I’m not interested in the what-do-you-do-for-a-living questions.

One thing I love and miss when I’m on the road is company when sitting in front of the box. I love watching telly with my fella.

I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I love watching telly. I write this column about it and have made three TV series about it, too.

I’m in awe of actors, I think they’re amazing because, I don’t think I can even play me in anything. I’m really impressed when you see people like Chris Ramsey, John Bishop and Jason Cook. Just taking up comedy acting, let alone serious acting, terrifies me to the core.

If you look at a bill of comics at a comedy club they spread the women out over the months because there aren’t that many women doing it.

When I was a kid, I had a friend who went on holiday to the same place every year and I never understood why. My ten-year-old eyes always wanted new things to look at – new branches of WH Smiths to look for Sweet Valley High books in, and different campsites or self-catering cottages to explore.

I’ve just realised that I lean towards telly that features people of a similar age to me. That’s a bit weird, isn’t it? I watch soaps with casts of all ages because there are at least three or four people in my age band. Somehow it’s fine if they’re a murderer as long as they’re not a young one.

I am a comedian. You may or may not find me funny, but the fact remains, that I am a comedian.

As I ran out of grandparents at the age of 16, the only time I ever see old folk is when I’m over-taking them on a motorway, they’re in my audience laughing at filth, or in any park.

There are no secrets. Everything gets mined for comedy.

My humour is a mix of my parents’. I get the chatty, anecdotal stuff from my dad and the filth from my mam, Valerie. She has a very dark sense of humour, I think from having grown up with disabilities. It’s a coping mechanism. She had polio when she was eight and has been in a wheelchair for about 20 years.

I was obsessed with films as a kid and so recorded as many as I could. I spent all my pocket money and any money earned by doing extra chores on blank videos for my burgeoning cinema.

A lot of people think that being skinny is the happy ending, and it’s not. Being happy is the happy ending.

I once kissed a boy at my first job because he offered to record the Oscars for me.

Everything feels different on Christmas morning because there’s nobody about. And if they are, then they’re on a new bike.

I’m not good in all emergencies. The frustration of an unopenable jar of jam can tip me over the edge, but at least I could use it adequately to cave in the heads of the undead.

Food recommendations are a must, but be careful. A friend went to a cafe I’d suggested and got food poisoning.

For people who’ve never seen me before, some of my material is quite a surprise. I look like your sister or neighbour, and then I come out with something quite dark or shocking, and it’s so unexpected.

Because I started doing stand-up relatively late – 29 – someone can shout something at me but it’s not going to be as bad as some of the things I’ve experienced. I’ve lived a bit.

Sorry, I love the internet. Since I got my cats, I don’t look at clips so much. Like a teenage boy with a real live girlfriend. But I am always sucked into clips of unlikely animal friendships.

If I write a joke and it works, and it works consistently, that is gold to me.

I like to think that I listen to Classic FM while domestic goddessing and, truth be told, I often do, but you know sometimes classical music can get a bit hectic and I just want to turn all the violins right down. That’s when I pop the telly on.