The lady was old, the lady was ill. It didn't matter what the lady believed.

No fiction, no myths, no lies, no tangled webs - this is how Irie imagined her homeland. Because homeland is one of the magical fantasy words like unicorn and soul and infinity that have now passed into language.

You're a library of me.

It's a funny thing about rap, that when you say 'I' into the microphone, it's like a public confession. It's very strange.

When I was 13, I really used to skip down the street, happy in thinking, "Oh, well, someone's suffering pain in order for me to feel this pleasure."

The object of the passion is just an accessory to the passion itself.

You can feel bad... I mean, that's not illegal.