“We put boogers on our fingers, then shake your hand.”

We always honor our people when they die; we’ve got to honor them while we’re still alive.

I can be serious, but there’s got to be a lighter side.

There’s not enough people being daring and different. There are a lot of followers in hip-hop.

I just wanted to be different; I didn’t wanna sound like anybody else.

My thing is whatever comes at me, I’m there. But DJ-ing and music is my passion. I’m going to be unpredictable.

Damn it feels good to see people up on it.

I can sell anything. I’m very convincing.

I would never be a sellout, but you can never be a sellout to kids. Kids is kids!

When I used to be on stage, I used to be out of breath; I couldn’t walk that far. Now, I got so much energy. I can do a whole show.

I really want to be the black Mr. Rogers – that’s my goal. I would do everything the same but with a hip-hop feel to it.

We’re out playing ball in the gym, I put boogers on the basketball and pass it to him

I don’t care about anything but what I want to do. You can’t worry about what else is happening out there. You have to be true to yourself.

They say I look and sound ugly but I don’t be carin.

I continue coupling a plate of silver with one of zinc, and always in the same order, and place between each of these couples a moistened disk. I continue to form a column. If the column contains about twenty of these couples of metal, it will be capable of giving to the fingers several small shocks.

The only thing that it is advisable to know in any language is the numerals; and even there, you can do a lot with the fingers.

My two fingers on a typewriter have never connected with my brain. My hand on a pen does. A fountain pen, of course. Ball-point pens are only good for filling out forms on a plane.

Tracing my fingertips over these open wounds that you carelessly open up, just to be amused; You pick at my sorrow while all I do is care for you.

Every honest miller has a golden thumb.

I’d rather be more of the hippie country chick – as in, instead of pointing a finger, just maybe saying, ‘We’re all screw-ups. We’re all in this kind of together. We’re all just figuring this out.’

I burned my own damn finger pokin’ someone else’s fire.

There is something truer and more real, than what we can see with the eyes, and touch with the finger.