Real things don't frighten me just the ones in my mind do.

Then at one point I did not need to translate the notes; they went directly to my hands

You cannot see me from where I look at myself

I feel like I am floating in plasma I need a teacher or a lover I need someone to risk being involved with me. I am so vain and I am so masochistic. How can they coexist?

Things looked funny because my pictures depend on an emotional state... I know this is true and I thought about this for a long time. Somehow it made me feel very, very good.

I wish i could change my mind as easily as I change socks But then I don't change socks so easily

THIS ACTION THAT I FORESEE has nothing to do with melodrama It is that life as lived by me now is a series of exceptions I was (am?) not unique but special. This is why I was an artist

Am I in the picture? Am I getting in or out of it? I could be a ghost, an animal or a dead body, not just this girl standing on the corner?

A lot of photography is making records of people, as objects, friends. It's like organizing a wardrobe - in terms of size etc.

Am I in the picture? Am I getting in or out of it? I could be a ghost, an animal or a dead body, not just this girl standing on the corner…?

If I really wanted to say or ask anything important (to her imposing father) I could not trust my tongue to get it right.

The outgroup is rocks.

Trying to tear down the past prohibits you from building up your future.

Humorists are always pessimists. They're reactionaries: because they see that every golden cloud has a black lining.

I really like The Dudleyz' new attire. It has that whole Bushwhackers 2000 feel.

Every labourer is a father, his labour is his child. Choose your project carefully and achieve it worthily

It is up to us, to everyone at Celtic Park, to build up our own legends. We don't want to live with history, to be compared with legends from the past. We must make new legends.

The only person you are fighting is yourself and your stubbornness to engage in new circumstances.

It's wonderful that whenever Patsy Cline's name is mentioned, people's voices fall and they become right sentimental. And, rightly so.

Talking money is crass; so I'm not going to tell you what I made last year.