'My Life' is soft, with notes of pear and gardenia, but still bold, with a woody base.

I know who I am. I am not perfect. I'm not the most beautiful woman in the world. But I'm one of them.

I listen to gospel music.

I don't know. Only God knows where the story ends for me, but I know where the story begins. It's up to us to choose, whether we win or lose and I choose to win.

I have to have lemon and honey. I have to have apple cider vinegar, Braggs. And I have to have either Red Vines or Twizzlers. These things, you know, are the things that help my vocal performance.

There's so many things that life is, and no matter how many breakthroughs, trials will exist and we're going to get through it. Just be strong.

If you're looking for inner peace from the outside world, you're not going to get that. The inner peace starts with looking at you from the inside.

Negative words are powerful boomerangs so be careful what you say about people and yourself.

When you come from so many damaged places you don't ever want to spiral back there, so you gotta continue to check yourself.

Believe in yourself when nobody else does.

When life is real, it's not going to be smooth.

Unlike Panic! At The Disco, I write sins AND Tragedies.

In our world, I rank music somewhere between hair ribbons and rainbows in terms of usefulness.

You are precious and special possession of God.

"Well," said my aunt, "this is his boy - his son. He would be as like his father as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too."

The history of music is nothing more than the history of art-music or classical music, the music that was commissioned by aristocrats.

The devil, you see, is that friend who never stays with us to the end.

But it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling!

I had a vision ... of being found on the pavement by some passerby, with a small punctuation mark ending my sentence of life.

I was born at night, but not last night.

What are American dry-goods? asked the duchess, raising her large hands in wonder and accentuating the verb. American novels, answered Lord Henry.