I was hungry. I was cold. But I was also free. Free not to get up in the morning, not to go to bed at night, free to get drunk if I liked, to dream... to hope.
If God has allowed me to earn so much money, it is because He knows I give it all away.
I want to die young. I think it's awful to get old, and sickness is ugly.
Money? How did I lose it? I never did lose it. I just never knew where it went.
Singing is a way of escaping. It's another world. I'm no longer on earth.
To be successful in my native France, where people speak the same language and understand me, is nothing.