My style was always to spread out rather than to move up.

I always hear myself saying , 'She's a beauty!' or 'He's a beauty!' or 'What a beauty!' but I never know what I'm talking about.

Everyone will be famous for 15 minutes.

I can't give parties. It's so hard. When I want to call somebody up for dinner they think I'm using them or something. I just can't stand it.

If you're not trying to be real, you don't have to get it right. That's art.

The childlike, gum-chewing naivete, the glamour rooted in despair, the self-admiring carelessness, the perfected otherness, the wispiness, the shadowy, voyeuristic, vaguely sinister aura, the pale, soft-spoken magical presence, the skin and bones . . .

I never understood why when you died, you didn't just vanish, everything could just keep going on the way it was only you just wouldn't be there. I always thought I'd like my own tombstone to be blank. No epitaph, and no name. Well, actually, I'd like it to say 'figment.'