One girl came up to me - I remember it so vividly - she said, "You're not fit to model socks." It crushed me. But at the same time, it made me unbelievably determined to prove everybody wrong and prove to myself that I could live an incredible life.

I like feeling a bit of an outcast where I am. I've always been that way. Somehow, I fit in by not fitting in.

Having children, you have so much more structure in your life. The open-endedness of being a single woman is gone, you know? It's sort of like, from 1 P.M. to 3 P.M. the kids are going to take a nap, so now I have time to sit down and write the lyrics, or once they're put to bed, I have a few hours to focus on those things. I need that. It's a very strange process, really - I can never predict what's going to happen. It always feels uncomfortable and awkward.

We all know people who are ridiculously famous, and it's a scary thing because all of the sudden people - even the people you are close to - stop being honest with you, stop telling you the truth.

I was afraid of being judged too harshly. But I'd let those fears overwhelm me for far too long.

I constantly have a devil on my shoulder telling me that what I'm doing is really horrible, and then somehow the lightning strike happens and everything comes together. I've just realized I have to live with that devil on my shoulder a little bit more.

I've not met one person, even if they are not creative, who isn't dysfunctional. I guess artists are just a bit more aware of their dysfunction because it serves a purpose.