My aunts lived on liquor and seldom felt like eating much. I don't know what's wrong about a kid stealing when he's hungry.

We show girls were forced to live in whorehouses in each town, no other accommodations being available.

The big compliment came from the beer drinkers who didn't know me. They wouldn't drink or move when I sang. If they had their glasses in mid-air, the glasses wouldn't come down.

There was one emotional outlet my people always had when they had the blues. That was singing.

I want affection and tenderness desperately, but there's something in me that prevents me from handing it out.

There had been lots of crises in my life. And there was plenty of spunk and battle cry still left in me.

It has been an ache and a joy both to look over this big shoulder of mine at all my yesterdays.