I saw a picture of Elvis in blue lame, and thought that if I could recreate that suit and walk down the King's Road in it, someone might pick me up and take me off on a crazy adventure.

Don't kill the golden goose.

Stealing things is a glorious occupation, particularly in the art world.

Nothing changes and very little happens in Paris. This is a great place to work without distraction - and then I run away to New York, where I have a life!

To be a flamboyant failure, that's better than being any kind of benign success

I always feel more comfortable in chaotic surroundings. I don't know why that is. I think order is dull. There is something about this kind of desire for order, particularly in Anglo Saxon cultures, that drive out this ability for the streets to become a really exotic, amorphous, chaotic, organic place where ideas can, basically, develop.

What are the politics of boredom?