There's a long way to fall when you pretend that you're so far away from the earth, far away from reality, floating in a bubble that's protected by fame or success. It's scary, and it's the thing I fear the most: to be swallowed up by that bubble. It can be poison to you, fame.

Fame and success have brought me everything, except a loving, on-going relationship. I seem to eat people up and destroy them no matter how hard I try to make things work. Sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming with fear because I'm so alone. That's why I go out looking for someone who will love me, even if it's just for a one-night stand.

We don't need more money, we don't need greater success or fame, we don't need the perfect body or even the perfect mate. Right now, at this very moment, we have a mind, which is all the basic equipment we need to achieve complete happiness.

Success is my breathing space. I brought it on myself. I will price it, I will cash it, I can take it or leave it.

I dread success. To have succeeded is to have finished one's business on earth, like the male spider who is killed by the female the moment he has succeeded in his courtship. I like the state of continual becoming, with a goal in front and not behind.

The key to success is emotional stability.