Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.

Being blond is definitely a different state of mind. I can't really put my finger on it, but the artifice of being blond has some incredible sort of sexual connotation.

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

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

The heretic is always better dead. And mortal eyes cannot distinguish the saint from the heretic.

I didn't mind being thought of as dumb. I knew I wasn't.