The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.

I speak of a clinical depression that is the background of your entire life, a background of anguish and anxiety, a sense that nothing goes well, that pleasure is unavailable and all your strategies collapse.

My two great heroes are W. B. Yeats and Federico Garcia Lorca.

I think that any songwriter - and I think that Bob Dylan knows this more than all of us - you don't write the songs anyhow.

If you want a lover I'll do anything you ask me to. And if you want another kind of love I'll wear a mask for you.

Love is the only engine of survival

No penance serves to renew them, no massive transfusions of trust. Why not even revenge can undo them, so twisted these vows and so crushed.