I do believe you're only as sick as your secrets.

Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

Sometimes you can only find Heaven by slowly backing away from Hell.

If my life wasn't funny it would just be true, and that is unacceptable.

No motive is pure. No one is good or bad-but a hearty mix of both. And sometimes life actually gives to you by taking away.

My heart's in the right place. I know, 'cuz I hid it there.

Bipolar disorder can be a great teacher. It's a challenge, but it can set you up to be able to do almost anything else in your life.

I am mentally ill. I can say that. I am not ashamed of that. I survived that, I'm still surviving it, but bring it on. Better me than you.

There is no point at which you can say, "Well, I'm successful now. I might as well take a nap."

I get lots of awards for being mentally ill. Apparently, I am better at being mentally ill than almost anything else I've ever done. Seriously - I have a shelf of awards for being bipolar.

You know the bad thing about being a survivor... You keep having to get into difficult situations in order to show off your gift.

History is indeed stranger than fiction. The twists and turns of human history are too outlandish for to be believable in any work of fiction.

If you start identifying your inner self with the spirit of pure potentiality then you are aligning with the power that helps in the manifestation of all energy in the form of matter.

This was when she asked him whether it was true that love conquered all, as the songs said. 'It is true', he replied, 'but you would do well not to believe it.

The way that I've always gone about making music, the rule of thumb, has just been to make what I love.

I'll tell you how to get up in the morning......watch for the dawn.

No one can step twice into the same river, nor touch mortal substance twice in the same condition. By the speed of its change, it scatters and gathers again.

Sometimes the lights all shining on me, other times I can barely see. Lately it occurs to me what a long strange trip it's been.

Poetry, in the past, was the center of our society, but with modernity it has retreated to the outskirts. I think the exile of poetry is also the exile of the best of humankind.

Ask yourself constantly "Am I treating my fellow citizens as I treat my mum?"

Thou art a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood.