I know the Russian political elite has got used to the Ukraine suffering from an inferiority complex, but I want this to disappear from our relationship.

I just heard the latest joke about my hair: 'Do you know what that is on her head? It's a steering wheel to drive the state.

Everything that I have is natural - braid, nails - I practically never use cosmetics. They often ask me in the provinces about my braid.

The post-Soviet mafia wove a spider's web of dirty money around the world. Where better to attack it than to start with the Ukrainian criminal heavyweights - the 'family' and its closest circle?

I think women have to change their hairstyle from time to time.

The old bastions of the post-communist regime collapsed before my very eyes. The monsters who had kept Ukraine in a criminal state left the stage.

Whenever you see a successful woman, look out for three men who are going out of their way to try to block her.

I think everyone remembers how certain Russian bureaucrats used to work against the Ukrainian opposition; I think it is hard to drop old habits.

I ask you, people who care about the soul of Ukraine, those who want to preserve the heart, the spirit and the faith of our country for future generations, to please defend it.

I am sure that all complaints regarding me were initiated from Ukraine.

I never complain. I chose the road of fighting with the Ukrainian oligarchy in 1996, and have paid for this with my freedom and that of my husband, my father and my close friends.

Even the boy who cried wolf as right about the wolf once.

Flowers, after love, must have been the best advert planet Earth had going for it.

When you have so little, just the smallest thing can make you happy

I think my first album opened a lot of doors for me to push the freedom of speech to the limit.

It's better to have your blackness taken away than to stand and lie about who you actually are.

You should shower," I said. "Right now." "I smell that bad?" (Patch) Actually, he smelled that good.

Affliction is a mother, Whose painful throes yield many sons, Each fairer than the other.

Please send me your last pair of shoes, worn out with dancing as you mentioned in your letter, so that I might have something to press against my heart.

It depends on where you put the paint, not how much you splash on.

If the only thing people learned was not to be afraid of their experience, that alone would change the world.