The year I turned 26, as the head of my own brokerage firm, I made $49 million, which really pissed me off because it was three shy of a million a week.

But if a Prince shall deign to be familiar and to converse with those upon whom he might trample, shall His condescension therefore Unking Him? And His familiarity rob Him of His Royalty?

I'll get out at the end of the road and walk from there.

Some weeks ago I was a victim of crime within 150 yards of the gates of Leinster House. I was approached or set upon by a little gurrier with a syringe. It is not a pleasant experience to have someone push a syringe against one's face at 12.30 a.m. on the streets of Dublin, particularly when one is within a stone's throw of the seat of Administration.