“I’m not conniving – that has a pejorative context. I’m not sitting in back rooms making deals. That’s not my style.”

All the praise I received couldn’t substitute for the praise I had never received from my mother at home.

I never like other people to clean for me. I don’t want them to invade my own privacy.

To fall in love is awfully simple, but to fall out of love is simply awful.

Everybody asks me, ‘So, what are you doing now?’ Why must I be doing something? All my life I’ve been doing something.

Men go after me, and I choose among them.

You can’t be beautiful and hate because hate is a corroding disease and affects the way you look. … You can’t hide it – ever. It shows in your eyes. It warps your expression. It affects your character, your personality.

All my life I’ve been doing. For now, I’m being — being quiet, being grateful.

I’ve lived through a lifetime of crises and survived.

Even when I jog, I need a place to get to.

You’ve got to love people, places, ideas; you’ve got to live with mind, body, soul; you’ve got to be committed; there is no life on the side-lines.

There’s something about the processional nature of the architecture, of the rooms connecting rooms. It’s just breathtaking.

And I like messing around in the engine room of music. Seeing what happens in the rhythm section area.

As we’re staggering out of the hospital, I don’t remember doing this because I was still high, but apparently I turned to the entire operating room staff and screamed “Hey! I’d better not see this on YouTube!”

I love everything about motels. I can’t help myself. I still get excited every time I slip a key into a motel room door and fling it open.

We are the outcasts, we are the ones that are different, we are the ones that never got along with anyone else, we are the ones that went back to our rooms and put on our headphones and listened to those records that made us happy

I’m not into smoke-filled rooms. I don’t have the time for byzantine political intrigues.

I’m just the least funny person in a room full of funny people, which is basically every single day of work for me.

The click [of a light switch] is the modern triumphal clarion proceeding us through life, announcing our entry into every lightless room.