Inspiration quite frequently arrives as a surprise. The key is being open to it.

We are all fairies living underneath a leaf of a lily pad.

I'm a classic emerald green Sixties Jaguar that nobody can own, but my husband is allowed to drive.

I survived this torture which left me paralyzed for years. That's what that night was all about, mutilation, more than violence through sex. I really do feel as though I was psychologically mutilated that night and now I'm trying to put the pieces back together again. Through love, not hatred. And through my music. My strength has been to open again, to life, and my victory is the fact that, despite it all, I kept alive my vulnerability.

There's a richness to the old works if you look before the 1950s. The chord progressions and the language was more complicated, especially in the jazz and classical world.

Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.

I used to get really pissed off that my life was so dictated by when this Jesus guy was born and when he was dying every year. I felt really resentful that I couldn't get on with my own life because I was so busy with his.