“Luxury lives in the finer details. It’s a cloth napkin at a dinner table. It’s a mint on your pillow before bed.”

I love musk oil. There’s something about musk that makes it memorable without being overpowering.

No one can break me down. I know my worth and its a beautiful thing.

Once you go great, you never go good..You never go back, even if you could.

T.I.’s my mentor; he’s a really close friend of mine. I call him my brother like we talk on the phone all the time. He’s helped me with my career.

Being talked about like a package – I feel like that all the time.

Not every artist is a role model.

For me, visuals are as important as the music. I just love escapism and giving people something to escape to. To me, that’s what art is.

Pledge allegiance to the struggle.

I’m irrational about all things creative and I’m always late!

Women in music have the bigger balls anyhow we endure much more harassment and critic.

First things first, I’m da realest.

My real name is Amethyst. It sounds like a stage name. My mom is kind of crazy.

As a child, I remember my dad would sometimes drive me into town with him to play pinball machines together. It’s a bittersweet memory but also a favorite.

I love purple because my name is Amethyst.

I found it to be kind of ironic, because I’m white, therefore I’m appropriating culture, but then Eminem won it – who’s white and won it many times – and they didn’t seem to say anything about that. I suspect it was just because they dislike me.

I think that music is still art, even if it’s commercialised.

I haven’t been to sleep for over a year. That’s why I go to bed early. One needs more rest if one doesn’t sleep.

When I get into bed at night, I hope I don’t get into it alone!

Everyday is a new fresh start. To go straight back to bed.

We laid in bed with our hands tied, talked about love and clear, summer skies.

There is nothing wrong with going to bed with someone of your own sex. People should be very free with sex, they should draw the line at goats.

You can find shame in every house, burning in an ashtray, hanging framed upon a wall, covering a bed. But nobody notices it any more.

Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed. Teach me to die.

And so she remained a mystery, something to dream about on rainy days staring at the dark holly clouds passing by. – in a bed of flowers.