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The Independent Culture
When a doctor does a scan, he uses an implement that's astoundingly phallus-like. He covers it with a condom, and greases it before putting it inside the patient's vagina. Funnily enough, I'm not that threatened because Anna and I have both worked at the ICA.

Writer-performer Jeff Klaff on his experiences of IVF treatment, Guardian

If you're singing every night, sometimes eight times a week, you have to be physically fit. It may sound rather Diva-ish and grand, but that means not speaking during the day. I have started writing cards or faxes to impart my thoughts and feelings to friends.

Elaine Page, subject of tonight's South Bank Show, Daily Telegraph

Basquiat takes a cursive swipe and re-establishes the disorder that is reality. The pure joyful chaotic miasma of it all. Goo-goo-ga-joo.

David Bowie pinpoints what it is he likes about Jean-Michel Basquiat, Modern Painters

Her film-star husband may well be selfish, egocentric and treat the house like a hotel, but he's hugely attractive and extremely rich. So divorcing him because he likes football, won't pick up his dirty washing or run around with the vacuum cleaner seems foolish and defeatist.

Lynda Lee-Potter dispenses advice, as only she can, to Mrs Sean Bean, Daily Mail

As dangerous as Hitler.

David Starkey on Lord Reith, The Moral Maze, R4

Have you seen Rosemary's Baby? It's f---ing brilliant. This woman's having the devil's baby, and this guy says, `you have to have this baby. It is the devil's son and he shall be called Adrian' - my real name.

Tricky, singer, on a strange coincidence, Time Out

Win or lose, who cares?

Mel Gibson, lying shamelessly the evening before the Oscars, New Yorker

Who are they?

Barry Manilow, on Oasis

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