It was really sad Bobby Neuwirth's and my affair. The only true, passionate, and lasting love scene, and I practically ended up in the psychopathic ward. I had really learned about sex from him, making love, loving, giving. It just completely blew my mind it drove me insane. I was like a sex slave to this man. I could make love for forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, forty-eight hours, without getting tired. But the minute he left me alone, I felt so empty and lost that I would start popping pills.

I came to New York to see what I could see - that's from a children's book, isn't it? - and to find the living part.

I'm greedy; I'd like to keep most of it for myself and a few others, a few of my friends . . . to keep that superlative high, just on the cusp of each day . . . so that I'd radiate sunshine.

While I was girl of the year and superstar and all that crap, everything I did was really...motivated by psychological disturbance.

I'll have to put more earrings on. I bet that someone could analyze me and tell my condition by my earrings.

You have to put up with the risk of being misunderstood if you are going to try to communicate.

I think drugs are like strawberries and peaches.