I want to die young. I think it's awful to get old, and sickness is ugly.

My conservatory is in the streets. My intelligence is instinct.

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.

All I've done all my life is disobey.

I want to make people cry even when they don't understand my words.

I'm the only one who still believes in Santa Claus!

I don't lie; I improve on my life.