I always thought the women of song don't get along, and I don't know why that is.

When the spirit of child's play enters into the creative process, it's a wonderful force and something to be nurtured.

The Hollywood sirens are shrieking, while down some search lit alley runs some lost belief.

We call for the three great stimulants of the exhausted ones, artifice, brutality, and innocence.

I know my generation - a lot of them, they're getting old now, and they want to think back fondly, they want to kid themselves. A lot of them think, 'Yeah, we were the best.' That's the kiss of death. That's non-growth. And also that's very bad for the world.

Woke up, it was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I knew there was milk and toast and honey and a bowl of oranges, too.

Everybody's saying hell's the hippest way to go. Well, I don't think so, but I'm gonna take a look around it though.