Nomophobia - the fear of having our phones taken from us - is taking over our lives. The smart devices are in our homes, carried room-to-room as if glued to the hands of our family members. They meander into the bathroom, the laundry room, the shop, the garage, backyard and even into the bedroom where the adults once had their "alone time." Our teenage children require them to either be under their pillows, by their pillows or within arm's reach at a nightstand in order to even sleep at night. The cell phone must be visible for them to take tests at school without withdrawal anxiety. The phones travel where we do - school, the office, the gym, so that we are in constant contact with the virtual world - other people who also have no real lives outside of their phone. They are ringing in churches, movie theaters, restaurants, concerts, funerals. Nothing says "goodbye" to the recently departed like your ring tone from Metallica's Hardwired. Welcome to the world of smart phone addiction.

'The difficult is what takes a little time; the impossible is what takes a little longer,' said Fridtj of Nansen, who personally repatriated more than 400,000 prisoners of war after World War I and helped save millions of Russians from starvation. Albert Einstein prudently advised, 'Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts' and Cseslaw Milosz warned, 'In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence, one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot.' Since 1901, the Nobel Prize has been the hallmark of genius, but Nobel laureates tend to be more than merely brilliant - their idealism, courage and concern for humanity have also made them sources of inspiration and wisdom. Contrary to the notion that geniuses are absentminded eccentrics, many Nobel laureates have been social activists and political leaders, and some have been polymaths whose interests and talents were diverse, such as Philip Noel-Baker, winner of the 1959 Peace Prize, who ran in three Olympic Games. The quotations here are grouped by such themes as achievement, truth and falsehood, war and conflict, technology, and most have never been anthologised previously.

THE SUNDAY TIMES BESTSELLER 'Helen is the woman I want in my life when the shit hits the fan' - Bryony Gordon What do you do when your relationship suddenly ends? How do you cope when the cosy 'coupley' future you had planned disappears? Join comedian Helen Thorn from The Scummy Mummies as she haphazardly takes the plunge into single life for the first time in twenty-two years. Helen shares her own roller coaster journey from the initial shock of a surprise separation, the messy months hanging out in her PJs through to the highs of rediscovering online dating, tiny pants, rock-solid female friendships and the glorious joy of just being by herself. With the help of relationship experts and an army of women "who know", Get Divorced, Be Happy will show you that going it alone isn't the end, it is just the beginning, and you will come out the other side, stronger, happier and goddamn sassier than ever before.

'So funny it will make you sick' TIME OUT 'Cooper's letters are absurd, pointless and very, very funny' RICKY GERVAIS 'The funniest book you'll read' THE GUARDIAN _______________ The massive bestselling book featuring the wonderfully silly letters of Robin Cooper (aka Friday Night Dinner creator Robert Popper). For several years, Robin Cooper has been plaguing department stores, hotels, associations, fan clubs and a certain children's book publisher with his letters. So who is Robin Cooper? Architect, thimble designer, trampoline tester and wasp expert, he is all of these things - it just depends on who he is writing to... This cult hit is a collection of Robin's mad-cap letters to everyone from Prince Charles to the Peanut Council, Harrods to the British Halibut Association - no one is safe. The resulting replies, as well as Cooper's replies-to-these-replies, will have you in hysterics. Letter writing will never be the same again.

"Prince Patrick" was a nick name given to me as a child by my family and parent's friends that reflected my attitude and desire to be treated in a manner befitting a little prince. A sign of endearment to humor my natural, idiosyncratic demeanor. I actually never thought of myself as royalty, rather, that I was "special," destined for greatness or to be famous, and should be treated as an incubating celebrity. But just how was I going to become a figure in history? A doctor or scientist that discovered a cure to a hideous disease or condition? An actor/artist that was going to define my generation? Or would I become infamous? Whereas, my innocent "hijinks" would lead to other more serious acts that would get me recognized for the wrong reasons. These stories of my eccentric exploits, told time and time again at family gatherings, have made both family and friends smile, giggle and laugh hysterically, with the words "no he did not" uttered more than once.