I'm not like a gorgeous bombshell or anything like that.

I bought an espresso maker and coffee maker and make them myself every day.

Americans are somehow obsessed with her, and something about me hit a spot with people in Japan.

There really aren't any completely Asian people singing right now.

I squeeze oranges every morning to make juice.

For the version of this CD released in Japan, a translation of the English lyrics is included, but there are lots of places where meanings are lost in the process of translation.

I just want people to see that I do my own stuff, that I'm not stupid, and I can make fun of myself.

I get strangely obsessed about the cleanliness of my house.

If I suddenly disappear from the music world, you might see Hikaru Utada working as a helper at some inn in Atami.

In English, the sounds and melodies I created were an inspiration to me, and words came to me as I explored the sounds, and from there I was able expand on the meaning.

The same parts of my brain get as excited as when I study bio or read a novel and write a paper on it.

On one issue, at least, men and women agree: they both distrust women.

I try to keep people happy. I go out of my way to get a smile. That's the way my mother raised me.

Pakistani feature films are all about catering to the male ego and male fantasy.

My guard stood hard when abstract threats, too noble to neglect, deceived me into thinking, I had something to protect.

I'm not worried about misconception or a perception that's bad. If I were, I'd be chasing something all the time.

I sincerely apologize to anyone who was offended by my attempt at humor regarding the tragedy in Japan. I meant no disrespect, and my thoughts are with the victims and their families.

In love you don't doubt, no question. Only when you think you doubt, but when you love you don't doubt, you just love because you enjoy love. And that's why love is joy and joy is love.

I bit a pillow. Or two.

There are forms of art that I might not like to do myself, but I still have respect for the artists who create it.

Many that are not mad have, sure, more lack of reason.