Men, all men, were always trying to get hold of me, you know.

I never found anyone who was good enough, who I could trust enough.

Even a criminal has the right to a new life, but they made sure I did not have that. They just didn't stop calling me a prostitute for ever and ever and ever and ever.

I like to think that people live on in other people's memories.

As a little girl I used to daydream about my real father coming on a white horse to rescue me.

I enjoyed sex and indulged in it when I fancied the men.

I took on the sins of everybody, of a generation, really.