Money? How did I lose it? I never did lose it. I just never knew where it went.

To sing is to bring to life; impossible if the words are mediocre, however good the music.

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

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

Americans want beauties, not me. I’m not the Parisian bombshell they expected. Can you see me as a chorus girl? Where’s my feather up the ass? They think I’m sad, they’re dumb. I don’t connect to them

Don't care what people say. Don't give a damn about their laws.

People say that I could sing the phone book and make it sound good.