And all that we built, and all that we breathed And all that we spilled or pulled up like weeds Is piled up in back and it burns irrevocably And we spoke up in turns 'til the silence crept over me.

If I ever met Dolly Parton for sure, I would just not be able to say anything. I love her.

I am consciously trying not to make it sound Celtic or African.

I can bear a lot but not that pall

What a woman does is open doors. And it is not a question of locking or unlocking.

People are often afraid for me. They think that I am going to break. I can make it through a set.

We are blessed and sustained by what is not said