“Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.”

The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.

The day you die is just like any other, only shorter.

Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.

With all this darkness round me I feel less alone.

Art has nothing to do with clarity, does not dabble in the clear and does not make clear

People are bloody ignorant apes.

Better hope deferred than none.

All mankind is us, whether we like it or not.

Any fool can turn a blind eye but who knows what the ostrich sees in the sand.

To find a form that accommodates the mess, that is the task of the artist now.

Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.

There’s never an end for the sea.

My mistakes are my life.

There’s something dripping in my head. A heart, a heart in my head.

Words are the clothes thoughts wear.

I pause to record that I feel in extraordinary form. Delirium perhaps.

Fame and fortune does not mean anything if you don’t have a happy home.

Two lost vessels can’t guide each other home when neither can see light lining the hidden horizon. – lost at sea.

She never felt safe in her skin so she got wrapped in his hoping that another body would provide shelter from her own. – shelter.

America cannot continue to lead the family of nations around the world if we suffer the collapse of the family here at home.

House music originated in America, and it has always been around, but I guess it just got a tighter hold on Europe and other parts of the world.

Sometimes strangers feel like home too.

Latinos are here to stay. As citizen Raquel, I’m proud to be Latina.

I was born in a lovely white house with a garden.