All autobiographies are lies. I do not mean unconscious, unintentional lies: I mean deliberate lies.

The man with a toothache thinks everyone happy whose teeth are sound. The poverty-stricken man makes the same mistake about the rich man.

People think you're crazy if you talk about things they don't understand.

We used to want our artists to be cigarette-smoking bohemian outsiders who were gonna take risks that the rest of us wouldn't.

Life's too short to drink crappy coffee and cry over boys who don't care.

I hope you're going to edit this stuff. I don't want to sound like a senile, self-pitying chick babbling on and on about her days of glory.