I think pictures and words have the power to make us rich or poor.

I have no complaints, except for the world.

I'm living my life, not buying a lifestyle.

Money talks. It starts rumors about careers and complicity and speaks of the tragedies and triumphs of our social lives.

You know, one of the only times I ever wrote about art was the obituary of Warhol that I did for the Village Voice.

There's a moment of recognition. It's that white-light kind of stuff that just "works." I love that. And you know it when it happens, whether it's a movie, music, a building, a book.

Warhol's images made sense to me, although I knew nothing at the time of his background in commercial art. To be honest, I didn't think about him a hell of a lot.