In the months since the death of my beloved Philip, I have drawn great comfort from the warmth and affection of the many tributes to his life and work - from around the country, the Commonwealth, and the world. His sense of service, intellectual curiosity and capacity to squeeze fun out of any situation - were all irrepressible. That mischievous, enquiring twinkle was as bright at the end as when I first set eyes on him.

He [Prince Philip] has, quite simply, been my strength and stay all these years, and I, and his whole family, and this and many other countries, owe him a debt greater than he would ever claim, or we shall ever know.

I will build a car for the great multitude. It will be large enough for the family, but small enough for the individual to run and care for. It will be constructed of the best materials, by the best men to be hired, after the simplest designs that modern engineering can devise. But it will be so low in price that no man making a good salary will be unable to own one - and enjoy with his family the blessing of hours of pleasure in God's great open spaces.

My son has died of AIDS.

I guess I just process death differently than some folks. Realizing you're not going to see that person again is always the most difficult part about it. But that feeling settles, and then you are glad you had that person in your life, and then the happiness and the sadness get all swirled up inside you.

Grief is the price we pay for love.