The New York Times is the worst newspaper in the world and it's extremely vicious to artists.

I don't have any home. Everyone I grew up with, my family, are all dead. So I feel kind of like a ghost. I'm more interested in the past.

The New York Times is the worst newspaper in the world and it's extremely vicious to artists.

There are no manners left in America at all, because all you're doing is kicking the person next to you so that you can consume more, see more, and get more.

Feeling is taboo, especially in New York. I read in some little magazine the other day that The New Yorker and The New York Times were sclerotic, meaning, "completely turned to rock." The critics here are that way.

I don't think it's like eastern mysticism, which leaves the person whole. It's really another form of cancer, television.

I think fame is something that you've achieved in your inner self that becomes known to others outside you. There are really very few famous people in history.