I'm not going to sing something if it doesn't make sense to me, or if it makes me look like I'm begging someone or I'm weak, because that's not me.

Singing is my life. And when I can do that, that's when I'm free. That's when I'm at my happiest, I'm at my most.

I'm singing, you know, because I'm happy and I'm free.

Some people can sit down and write a song, but they can't go on stage like I can.

Play with me and you play with fire.

I'm going to keep on keeping on as long as I've got my health and strength, and God gives me that will to do it.

God's eye is on a sparrow. And I know - oh, yes, I know he watches over me...

Music is my happiness, my joy, and when my body wasn't right I couldn't get into my music without being healed, without being healthy.

When I'm on tour, I don't see these spots as much as I'd like. I'm just in, I perform, then I'm out. I hope to spend years sightseeing, then more years after that.

I miss my hair, but I feel like going out there with some fake braids wouldn't be right. I want to be the most genuine performer I can be.

We chose it's name [Give the People What They Want] a while ago, long before the cancer. But I can't think of a more fitting title.

Very few people realize how dangerous the indoor environment can be to long term health.

A president cannot meaningfully honor certain token artists while the people at large are so dishonored.'”

Australians are a fantastic bunch of people but the attention can be overwhelming for someone like me.

Every single one of us can do something, however small, to make a difference.

nonlinear interactions almost always make the behavior of the aggregate more complicated than would be predicted by summing or averaging.

The mother tongue is propaganda.

The agreement to place the binational planning group at our new Northern Command was also signed in December.

The leaves that are green turn to brown. And they wither with the wind. And they crumble in your hand.

I crave white on white and black, but my thoughts race in glorious technicolour, prodding me awake, whipping away the warm blanket of invisibility every time it sears to smother my mind in nothing.

Self-belief? My parents gave it to me.