I keep telling everyone that I want to start a revolution but no one is taking me seriously. If I had black skin and an afro, would you take me seriously? If I was an Arab waving a hand grenade, would you take me seriously?

When you're writing something and you know it's good, you get flushed, you can feel the blood coursing through your veins, you feel alive, all your nerve endings stand up, something just clicks.

I hadn't been onstage in a while. The last time was pre-children. And before I went on [at Roseland], my kids were backstage, and I thought, This isn't how I usually do it. I've got kids, and I'm thinking, This is weird. It's weird juggling children on your knee while you're in your rhinestone outfit. And I'm thinking, Okay, I'm gonna go out and do a show and I'm gonna be Superwoman! But I'm not really, `cause I'm a mom. It's all very strange.

One thing I've learned is that I'm not the owner of my talent; I'm the manager of it.

Motherhood was the beginning of my own journey asking the question, 'Why am I here?' I had to stop and think: What am I doing to teach my daughter? What do I believe in?

Everyone went out and bought Sex, it was sold out in two seconds. And then everybody slagged me off. That, to me is a statement of the hypocrisy of the world that we live in. The fact that everybody is so interested in sex but won't admit it.

I panic every time I put out a record. I think every artist does.