I wouldn't mind at all coming back to earth after my death.

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

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.

I wouldn't mind at all coming back to earth after my death.

When he takes me in his arms, and speaks to me softly, I see the world through rose-colored glasses.

I've been thinking about Jesus. Don't you find it a bit strange that, since He was living with His family and all, He up and left them just when they needed him most?

I always thought my days spent in darkness [as a child she had cataracts and was unable to see for nearly four years] gave me a very special sensitivity. Much later, when I really wanted to hear, really 'see' a song, I'd close my eyes, and when I wanted to bring it out of the very depths of myself, out of my guts, out of my belly, when the song had to come from far away, I'd close my eyes.