“When people say, ‘She’s got everything’, I’ve got one answer – I haven’t had tomorrow.”

I am a very committed wife. And I should be committed too – for being married so many times.

I love to be casual and comfortable, but I also love the easy glamour of wearing jewelry all the time.

No matter what happens, I’m loud, noisy, earthy and ready for much more living.

I do enjoy life, I really do. Especially if I wake up the next day.

Michael Jackson is part of my heart. We would do anything for each other.

The problem with people who have no vices is that generally you can be pretty sure they’re going to have some pretty annoying virtues.

You can be fat and still be sexy . It all depends on how you feel about yourself.

Now is the time for guts and guile.

I’ve always admitted that I’m ruled by my passions.

Big girls need big diamonds.

Sometimes I think we know too much about our idols and that spoils the dream.

The things that are important to me – being a mother, a businesswoman, an activist – are all things that were borne out of great passion.

Everything makes me nervous – except making films.

I don’t have a short temper, I just have a quick reaction to bullshit.

Just in case you get pneumonia or die. The dangerous bits are always the last days of shooting.

I gave a very dear friend of mine my humanitarian award. Because you don’t need an award to be, or not be, a humanitarian.

This whole problem can be stated quite simply by asking, “Is there a meaning to music?” My answer to that would be, “Yes.” And “Can you state in so many words what the meaning is?” My answer to that would be, “No.”

Someone once asked me… whether I waited for inspiration. My answer was: “Every day!”

Even the rain could be the answer to your prayers.

Maybe you don’t need to have all the answers, maybe life need not be slower or faster; maybe everything’s evolving in the magic of the unseen, maybe its not about doing but simply being.

The role of the artist is to ask questions, not answer them.

However much you knock at nature’s door, she will never answer you in comprehensible words.

No matter how often you knock at nature’s door, she won’t answer in words you can understand–for Nature is dumb. She’ll vibrate and moan like a violin, but you mustn’t expect a song.

And you loved me like I was, and had always been, the answer and the question did not, and would never, matter.