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At the risk of peddling cliches, it seems that making and eating spaghetti aglio, olio e peperoncino is second nature to most Italians.

Everyone seems to nod in agreement about this classic, thrifty (and very good) combination of four ingredients: spaghetti, aglio (garlic), olio (oil) and peperoncino (chilli) – which can be five if you choose to include prezzemolo (parsley), and six if you count the salt.

Cheap, quick, generous and on the table in 15 minutes, ajo ojo – as they call it in Rome – is a constant in many lives: the answer to quick lunches and pit-stop dinners, and the full-stop to many boozy nights out – hence the name gli spaghetti di mezzanotte (midnight pasta). It is a dish many love like an old friend who, regardless of time, fashion, fads and the weather, just is.

Rachel Roddy

I waded into the water and it was very soft on my skin and refreshing, a little bit cool but not too cold. It was a nice feeling because the sun was shining and I was very hot. Daddy was begging me to rush so he could watch the World Cup final, but I like to take my time about things so I ignored him.

I was crawling along the bottom of the lake on my arms and knees, looking for stones to skim, when my hand and knee felt something long and hard buried in the clay and sand. I pulled it out and saw that it was different from the sticks or rocks I usually find. One end had a point, and the other had a handle, so I pointed it up to the sky, put my other hand on my hip and called out, “Daddy, I’ve found a sword!”

I felt like a warrior, but Daddy said I looked like Pippi Longstocking. The sword felt rough and hard, and I got some sticky, icky brown rust on my hands. It started to bend and Daddy splashed up to me, and said I should let him hold it. It was my sword and now he was taking it away! I gave it to him in the end.

I ran to my mamma and my mormor – my grandma – and some other relatives who were all sitting outside having fika, which is Swedish for having a sit-down with coffee and cookies. I was yelling, “I found a sword, I found a sword!” Daddy went to show it to our neighbours, whose family has lived in the village for more than 100 years, and they said it looked like a Viking sword. Daddy didn’t get to watch the football in the end.

Saga Vanecek

The choir need a song to sing – that’s why they’re the choir! They need a song to pull them out of despair, and need to light a fire underneath themselves.

Michael Moore

A new study of those taking up the guitar has found that half of new learners are women and girls, suggesting that the future of rock, metal and indie might just be 50% female.

The Guardian

As he started to dismember the body, Tubaigy put on earphones and listened to music. He advised other members of the squad to do the same.

“When I do this job, I listen to music. You should do [that] too,” Tubaigy was recorded as saying, the source told MEE.

David Hearst

When her mother had her breakdown, says Bonham Carter, “she had a recurring dream that she was eating her father – carving him up and eating him. She thought it was the most horrifying dream, and the therapist she ended up seeing said: ‘What did he taste like?’ And she said: ‘No one’s ever asked me that. Really sweet.’ After that, the dream went. Suddenly it was solved.”

Simon Hattenstone

Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.

Frank Lloyd Wright

I remember watching an episode of Batman of the future [the animated series Batman Beyond] where a villain takes over the mind of his targets by pretending to be their consciousness. The villain fails to do so to Bruce Wayne, who ultimately deceives him. Terry, Bruce’s assistant, asks how Bruce separated the voice in his head from his actual self. “He called me Bruce” Bruce says, but Bruce calls himself Batman.

Inua Ellams

By then, Lennon and McCartney were writing separately, but still acting as each other’s sounding board. After working on Hey Jude some more, McCartney invited Lennon and Ono to his house in north-west London and played it to them. One line, “The movement you need is on your shoulder”, was there as a placeholder. “I’ll change that,” McCartney said. “It’s a bit crummy.” “You won’t, you know,” Lennon replied. “That’s the best line in it.”

One night in 1982, a 19-year-old club kid called Ian Griffiths, who had recently dropped out of an architecture degree because “there was just too much fun to be had in Manchester, to be honest”, was at a party in Wythenshawe. He was living on £37.50 a week benefit, and “perfectly happy. I made all my own clothes, I got into all the clubs free.” When the Haçienda nightclub opened in the city, Griffiths went every night without fail for the first six months – “and I didn’t eat anyway, so there was no requirement for food. But there we were, wasted on the sofa, and the news came on that Margaret Thatcher was considering conscription for the Falklands war for the unemployed. So I thought I’d better do something. That’s how I ended up studying fashion.”

 Jess Cartner-Morley