“Memories are not recycled like atoms and particles in quantum physics; they can be lost forever.”

I want you to walk out of here tonight not loving me more, but loving yourselves more.

It’s hard knowing who to trust with your personal life. When you cry in your room at night, you don’t always know who to call.

Dirty pony, I can’t wait to hose you down.

To everyone who says this is wrong to feel like this say, ‘I was born this way baby.

I’m telling you a lie in a vicious effort that you will repeat my lie over and over until it becomes true

When I wake up in the morning, I feel like any other insecure 24-year-old girl. Then I say,’Bitch, you’re Lady Gaga, you get up and walk the walk today.

All that ever holds somebody back, I think, is fear. For a minute I had fear. Then I went into the dressing room and shot my fear in the face.

At the end of the day, you won’t be happy until you love yourself.

I’m obsessively opposed to the typical.

I’ve always believed in the power of makeup to elevate self-love.

I’d wear any of my private attire for the world to see. But I would rather have an open flesh wound than ever wear a band aid in public.

Never be afraid to dream.

And now, I’m just trying to change the world, one sequin at a time.

A record deal doesn’t make you an artist; you make yourself an artist

The scars on my mind are on replay.

You have to be unique, and different, and shine in your own way.

Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher Swept off his tall hat to the Squire’s own daughter, So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly Singing about her head, as she rode by.

That which we remember is, more often than not, that which we would like to have been; or that which we hope to be. Thus our memory and our identity are ever at odds; our history ever a tale told by inattentive idealists.

In order to travel far you have to be detached.

In all circumstances, I always look for the light and build around it, with little memory of pain.

My face carries all of my memories. Why would I erase them?

Memories should be sharp when one has nothing else to live for.

Memory at last has what I sought.

Our memory is childish and it saves only what we need.