“After crossing the Smoky Hill River, I felt comparatively safe as this was the last stream I had to cross.”

Wild Bill was a strange character. In person he was about six feet and one inch in height. He was a Plains-man in every sense of the word.

Indians were frequently off their reservations.

I had many enemies among the Sioux; I would be running considerable risk in meeting them.

My brother was a great favorite with everybody, and his death cast a gloom upon the whole neighborhood.

Every Indian outbreak that I have ever known has resulted from broken promises and broken treaties by the government.

My wife was delighted with the home I had given her amid the prairies of the far west.

On reaching the place where the Indians had surprised us, we found the bodies of the three men whom they had killed and scalped, and literally cut into pieces.

Quick as lightning Wild Bill pulled his revolver. The stranger fell dead, shot through the brain.

The McCarthy boys, at the proper moment, gave orders to fire upon the advancing enemy.

Major North and myself went out in advance of the command several miles and killed a number of buffaloes.

The Indians said the bones were those of a race of people three times the size of a man.

I was persuaded now that I was destined to lead a life on the Plains.

I could never resist the call of the trail.

You who live your lives in cities or among peaceful ways cannot always tell whether your friends are the kind who would go through fire for you. But on the Plains one’s friends have an opportunity to prove their mettle.

It was because of my great interest in the West, and my belief that its development would be assisted by the interest I could awaken in others, that I decided to bring the West to the East through the medium of the Wild West Show.

I thought I was benefiting the Indians as well as the government, by taking them all over the United States, and giving them a correct idea of the customs, life, etc., of the pale faces, so that when they returned to their people they could make known all they had seen.

Poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars – mere globs of gas atoms. I, too, can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. But do I see less or more?

I live in my imagination, so sometimes movies help me get lost. I feel like I’m in it.

I drop a picture, now these b**ches feel attacked.

I just think I have too much anxiety to listen to music. Sometimes it feels like noise, and sometimes it’s so affecting that I can’t recover from it.

Wearing a hijab never made me feel any more conservative – it made me feel safe. Then, after 9/11, I became the butt of a joke on the playground, so I stopped wearing it. Kids can be really cruel when you’re the only black girl in your Girl Scout troop.

I feel like when you say ‘activist,’ you have to have so much clarity, and I don’t always necessarily have so much clarity on how I want to help others, I just have this weird, deep urge to help other people. I’m trying to let God guide my body and use it as whatever kind of vehicle or vessel it needs to be.

I like my visuals to feel like movies.

I just sing what I’m feeling at the time and hope my fans will like that and appreciate that.