Here I am, one of the most colorful women of my time - if not of my block - being made to sound positively legumelike in printed interviews.

For some people, a park is the only place in their entire world where they can see something beautiful.

I think most of us are torn. We have at least two people at war in our body. One person wants to retire and grow fabulous tomatoes, and the other wants to stand up on a pedestal and be worshipped and get bigger and bigger and bigger until she explodes.

A lot of people say that my life is wasted on me because I could be a bigger asshole than I am, but I've chosen not to be.

I tried to charm the pants off Bob Dylan, but everyone will be disappointed to learn that I was unsuccessful. I got close - a couple of fast feels in the front seat of a Cadillac.

I wouldn't say I invented tacky, but I definitely brought it to its present high popularity.

My whole life had been spent waiting for an epiphany, a manifestation of God's presence, the kind of transcendent, magical experience that lets you see your place in the big picture. And that is what I had with my first [compost] heap.