It's hard to be a saint in the city.

I tend to be not my own best company. I can get a little lost when - if I don't have my work to occasionally focus me.

I think you can get to a point where nihilism, if that's the right word, is overwhelming, and the basic laws that society has set up - either religious or social laws - become meaningless.

Your legs were heaven, your breasts were the alter, your body was the holy land.

For the ones who had a notion, A notion deep inside, That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive I wanna find one face that ain't looking through me I wanna find one place, I wanna spit in the face of these badlands

Certainly tolerance and acceptance were at the forefront of my music.

When it comes to luck, you make your own.