“To be sure, I'm not perfect wife material: I'm neurotic. I'm compulsive. I speak before I think and can't cook worth a damn. I'm messy and germaphobic all at once, and it's not entirely unheard of for me to get hold of the wrong end of the stick and then hang there like a pitbull.”

“It's really starting to get to me and I'm not sure how to handle it because I can't remember ever letting anything get to me before. I can't remember ever feeling this fucking vulnerable.”

“And I'm not saying it's a bad song, you know, or anything like that. All I'm saying is that if you get, I don't know, a broom, say, and dip it in some brake fluid, put the other end up my arse, stick me on a trampoline in a moving lift, and I would write a better song on the walls. That's all I'm saying.”

“It's perfectly normal that extraordinary things happen to me. I'm an exceptional person. Oh, don't think I'm boasting. I mean to say that, unfortunately, I'm exceptional and that, unfortunately, I can't live by the rules. I must make my own.”

“I'm pore, I'm black, I may be ugly and can't cook, a voice say to everything listening. But I'm here.”

“I'm an alien 'cause I'm not of this world. I have a name but I've been changed and now I can't stay the same.And I'm a loser if that means I've been lost before...I'm a monster if that means I'm misunderstood. 'Cause it's alive and I can't hide it. The energy is rising.And I'm a traitor if that means I've turned on myself. I can't deny it, it's like a riot. I can't keep it quiet.”