I think of myself as a girl from Brooklyn.

I believe in love and lust and sex and romance. I don't want everything to add up to some perfect equation. I want mess and chaos. I want someone to go crazy out of his mind for me. I want to feel passion and heat and sweat and madness. I want valenties and cupids and all of that crap. I want it all.

I can't cook, at all. I would not know how to make coffee. I took cooking classes, so I know how to make chocolate soufflé, but ask me if I want to make soufflé. I let somebody else make the chocolate soufflé, and I eat it. I found that, when I took cooking classes and tried to cook, I didn't want to eat it. The joy was gone. I was always filthy with the stuff, and then had to clean it up. I don't like that.

When I was a teenager in New York, I was buying antique clothes. I still am.

I just don't like the idea of her singing my songs. Who the hell does she thinks she is? The world doesn't need another Streisand! (on Diana Ross)

Why is it people who want the truth never believe it when they hear it?

There's a part of you that always remains a child, no matter how mature you get, how sophisticated or weary.