Jonny Lee Miller Quotes

I had a bit of a male menopause. It started at the age of 18 and continued until I was 45.

Almost every month, I have a day where I get stuck in the mud of me. I used to blame hormones and PMS. After I hit 50, I blamed the lack of hormones. But men get stuck, too, so it must simply be the human condition.

When I was nine, we moved to Stanford University in San Francisco so that my father could do a Ph.D. I went to Terman Junior High in Palo Alto. It was terrible, because my hormones were all over the place, and I became an ugly adolescent full of rage and loathing.

Rock and menopause do not mix. It is not good, it sucks and every day I fight it to the death, or, at the very least, not let it take me over.

I'm losing my hair. I'm overweight. It's not like that's at the top of the list when women go looking for a man. It's like - complete collapse, every year.

I'm mostly a mess, and I hide it pretty well a lot of time.

A lot of people like me, who've been around for years and years and years, only really lose it in their forties and fifties.

Midlife is a time of explosive change, when our hormones rampage and our bodies alter, forcing us into a whole new chapter of life whether we want it or not. Everyone has a moment when they realise for sure that this so-called passage of time is changing them - and perhaps not in a good way.

It's interesting because the first batch of really struggling with control and escape and all that happened when I was nearing adolescence, and the second one came with the onset of early menopause.

What has gotten into you lately? Save a little craziness for menopause!

Now if I seem to be afraidTo live the life that I have made in songWell it's just that I've been losing so long.

He almost said to himself that he did not like her, before their conversation ended; he tried so hard to compensate himself for the mortified feeling, that while he looked upon her with an admiration he could not repress, she looked at him with proud indifference, taking him, he thought, for what, in his irritation, he told himself - was a great fellow, with not a grace or a refinement about him.

A kind of second childhood falls on so many men. They trade their violence for the promise of a small increase of life span. In effect, the head of the house becomes the youngest child.

I was just struggling with my inner vachette and pondering the depths of my own inhumanity.

I have so many insecurities they fight for prominence.

Inside it drives me crazy, my insecurities could eat me alive.

But now my problems had been set loose. They could be anywhere at any time and I was just like everyone else I knew: almost positive that there was something profoundly and undiagnosably wrong with me.

Middle age is when you still believe you'll feel better in the morning.

I didn't tell him that what I was most scared of, most haunted by, was something I didn't understand and could never run away from. It was myself.

I'm just one gigantic ball of rancid fear and self-consciousness. I'm entirely fueled by fear, so the fact that I knew it could be a catastrophic disaster made me unable to sleep, and made me work quite hard.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices, have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

A lot of things run through your head when you're going in to relieve in a tight spot. One of them was, "Should I spike myself?"

I don't need more pain in my life. Why did I invite it in? Do I have to feel pain to believe I feel anything at all?

I am afraid of falling into hopeless despair, over my wasted life, and I am still not sure how it happened.