Sometimes I am two people. Johnny is the nice one. Cash causes all the trouble. They fight.

Guess what, I might be the first hippie pinup girl.

I am one thing, my writings are another.

When I cut my hair, the whole sound changed, my style changed.

Excess is part of my nature. Dullness is a disease.

But where do we discover a harmonious whole at all, a simultaneous sounding of many voice in one nature, if not in such men as Cellini, men in whom everything, knowledge, desire, love, hate, strives towards a central point, a root force, and where a harmonious system is constructed through the compelling domination of this living centre?