It's [a miscarriage] all very thief-in-the-night. No one really knows what to say. You go into the emergency room, you think you're going to be a mum and you walk out empty. It's all neat and tidy, there's this potential being in your life and you're empty - all cleaned up and put back together, but completely shattered.

If I was writing songs just for me I'd only play them in my living room, alone.

I get painted quite a bit as a tragic figure because of some of the stuff that's happened in my life.

I don't know what a shrink would call me. I don't want to know.

After a while, though, you realize that a whole slew of young singer-songwriter piano players are getting compared to you. That's when you feel the passage of time is occurring.

There are enough scary rock & roll mothers in the world.

My childhood was extreme.