Goodbye, my friend, goodbye. My dear, you are in my heart. Predestined separation promises a future meeting.

Whom shall I call on? Who will share with me The wretched happiness of staying alive?

Not sorry, not calling, not crying All will pass like smoke of white apple trees Seized by the gold of autumn, I will no longer be young.

Not sorry, not calling, not cryingAll will pass like smoke of white apple treesSeized by the gold of autumn, I will no longer be young.

Our inner Witch isn't something we acquire.It's already within us. It's something we become ready and willing to experience. Something we realize we ARE.

Part of me wishes some of the more obsessive fans would spend a fraction of the time they spend studying the band.

The best defense is a good story.

I'm a forthright person and I am ambitious and I do hope that I get to do more, interesting work but not at the expense of me not being who I am.

We don't vogue, we are 'Vogue'.

But why, oh why, do the wrong people travel, when the right people stay at home?

Hip is the sophistication of the wise primitive in a giant jungle.

I think that the idea of having a different approach to every single one of my albums is so exciting to me. I never want to make the same record twice. Why do it? What's the point?

The roundness of life's design may be a sign that there is a presence beyond ourselves.

Nobody ever stopped reading E. B. White or V. S. Pritchett because the writing was too good.