I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me.

I hated the Beatles when they first came out because they were so goddamn cheery. I didn’t listen to popular music from 1964 until 1976, when I first heard the Sex Pistols. Finally a new antihippie sound that could piss off every musical legend that came first.

And it took me a long time and a lot of struggle to finally figure out why: I didn’t actually want it. I was in love with the result — the image of me on stage, people cheering, me rocking out, pouring my heart into what I was playing — but I wasn’t in love with the process.

I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.

One of the things I always thought was the secret of The Beatles was that our music was self-taught. We were never consciously thinking of what we were doing. Anything we did came naturally. A breathtaking chord change wouldn't happen because we knew how that chord related to another chord. We weren't able to read music or write it down, so we just made it up. My dad was exactly the same. And there's a certain joy that comes into your stuff if you didn't mean it, if you didn't try to make it happen and it happens of its own accord. There's a certain magic about that. So much of what we did came from a deep sense of wonder rather than study. We didn't really study music at all.

The Beatles saved the world from boredom.

I can't deal with the press; I hate all those Beatles questions.

I never wanted to be famous; I only wanted to be great.

Even if it's being a Beatle for the rest of my life, it's still only a temporary thing.

I didn't come here to make friends.

I'd seen John around — in the chip shop, on the bus, that sort of thing — and thought he looked quite cool, but would we have ever talked? I don't know. As it happened, though, I had a school friend who knew John. And then I also happened to share a bus journey with George to school. All these small coincidences had to happen to make the Beatles happen, and it does feel like some kind of magic. It's one of the wonderful lessons about saying yes when life presents these opportunities to you. You never know where they might lead.

I decided that in order to become a big famous rock star, I would need to write my very own songs instead of wasting my time learning other peoples music too much. It may act as an obstruction in developing your very own personal style.

I had to say to myself, 'Don't write the music. Let the music write itself.

I discovered that I loved silence. I found that I didn’t need anything to entertain myself. I wasn’t distracted by conversation, flirtation, or expectations.