“Orange magic in your eyes, on my mind”

My boyfriend and I like to fight a lot. I have a lot of problems. He has a lot of problems. Somehow, we always work them out and find a way back to each other.

I definitely always thought of myself as a songwriter before a singer.

My sister was the singer, and I always had the mentality there could only be one in the family.

I just remember really loving words and writing about anything I could, and the way I’d remember things, like my library card number, was to make a melody.

If I get writer’s block – this is going to sound funny – I take a shower. Something about the water feels like I’m cleaning my brain as well as my body.

I just wanted to write the songs. I never wanted to sing them.

I think artists are aware that talking gives a songwriter so much material. If they just tell us what’s happening, it’s so much easier for us to write a song that’s specific to them.

I would give anything to hold your hands like this again.

We could be history in the making.

Still finding silly string in weird places.

I write songs for myself, but I never keep them. I’m like, ‘O.K., that was my therapy – it’s out of my body now. I’m going to give it to somebody else so it can be their therapy, too.’

Women often don’t want to be typecast as the girl that’s sad.

There is so much power in vulnerability, and I am proud to be that typecast.

It’s ingrained in people’s minds that it’s a typecast and a stereotype that women are just emotional and crazy.

Plantin’ lemon trees since I was twenty-three

People are going to assume whatever they want to assume.

Now my eyes are turned from the South to the North, and I want to lead one more Expedition. This will be the last to the North Pole.

The scar on my eye is a result of the doctor’s sewing up my face. It was 450 stitches and plastic surgery.

The true vision is not in your eyes.

It doesn’t cost anything to say hi when you pass someone else in the hallway, whereas, most corporations if you pass you avoid eye contact.

Sometimes the easiest way to appreciate ourselves is by looking through the eyes of someone who loves us.

Such alchemy your mystic eyes like a drug I’m addicted to your fiery kisses.

My eyes shut as the fire in my lungs reaches my throat.

I look at you and see your angel eyes, just like the devil electrifying me.