“My business is to enjoy and have fun. And why not, if in the end everything will end, right?”

All my life I just wanted to be a beatnik. Meet all the heavies, get stoned, get laid, have a good time. That’s all I ever wanted.

It’s that point two people can get to they call love, when you really touch someone for the first time, but it’s gigantic, multiplied by the whole audience. I feel chills.

They threw these musicians at me, man, and the sound was coming from behind. The bass was charging me.

Guess what, I might be the first hippie pinup girl.

Life is too damn short and [screwed] up to go through it silently loving someone and never telling them how you feel. [Screw]

Singing, it’s like it’s like loving somebody, it’s a supreme emotional and physical experience.

That story hit me right, man. I know no guy ever made me feel as good as an audience. I’m really far into this now, really committed.

Being an intellectual creates a lot of questions and no answers.

I don’t know, I just want to feel as much as I can, it’s what ‘soul’ is all about.

I read a story about some old opera singer once, and when a guy asked her to marry him, she took him backstage after she had sung a real triumph, with all the people calling for her, asked, ‘Do you think you could give me that?’

And I decided then and there that that was it. I never wanted to do anything else. It was better than it had been with any man, you know. Maybe that’s the trouble.

Like most girls I’m always really self-conscious about do I look fat, if my legs are short, if I’m weird shaped, but when I go on stage, man, it never occurs to me. I think I look beautiful.

I’m one of those regular weird people.

I got treated very badly in Texas. They don’t treat beatniks too good in Texas. Port Arthur people thought I was a beatnik, though they’d never seen one and neither had I.

You can’t make up something that you don’t feel. I didn’t make it up. I just opened my mouth and it existed.

To be true to myself, to be the person that was on the inside of me, and not play games.

The law-givers and the law-abiding, the beginning and the end.

For now I have to make do with fantasising about me and you, you and me, and what we will never ever be again since you’ve been ignoring me for weeks now. And I’m at the end of my patience as well as ideas of how to catch your attention.

In the end, it doesn’t matter how well we have performed or what we have accomplished—a life without heart is not worth living.

I write till the end at least a draft of a play or a novel; but sometimes,

We chose a place all the way at the end of an industrial park.

We have always said there are two ways to resolve Syria, and both will end up with the same result: a Syria without Bashar Assad.

Nearly every one of these – from R2D2 to Hellboy’s revolver – ends with the paint job. And it’s not just cosmetic.

The odds and ends of your mental surplus you carelessly throw at the world, one wants to be at a loss, in a maze; amazed, and amazingly unabashed.