Those that think my clothes are androgynous also still believe that women should look like Barbie dolls. That's precisely the problem, the deep-rooted assumptions about what is feminine.

Black is not sad. Bright colours are what depress me. They're so... empty. Black is poetic. How do you imagine a poet? In a bright yellow jacket? Probably not.

Fashion has a right to exist, because it permits the people to define themselves over and over again.

I just wait because I think people will find me. And I’m not the kind of person who will knock on somebody’s door. I wait. If they’re good for me, they will come towards me.

I want to put a soul in a garment. I don't want my clothes to be perfect, because human beings are not perfect.

Jewelry is something that has to do with emotion. That aspect of jewelry really interests me.

For me black is not dark, it's poetic. I don't think of gothic I think of classic - it's a big difference.

A new time is coming both for my personal life, and the brand Ann Demeulemeester. I feel it's time to separate our paths.

Black is not sad... Black is poetic.

Who could imagine a poet wearing anything other than black?

Good fashion for me is like rock ‘n’ roll – there’s always a little rebellion in it.

Faith is why I'm here today and faith is why I believe I can achieve something in my life.

. . . for liberty is an acknowledgment of faith in God and His works.

Most of us have fond memories of food from our childhood. Whether it was our mom's homemade lasagna or a memorable chocolate birthday cake, food has a way of transporting us back to the past.

So much time is spent on belief. So little time is spent on love!

When Jack Benny plays the violin, it sounds as though the strings are still in the cat.

Altruists, with thin, weak voices, denounce Christ as an egoist. Egoists (with even thinner and weaker voices) denounce Him as an altruist.

The art of life, of a poet's life, is, not having anything to do, to do something.

O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree, So scant of grass, so profligate of pines

I am waiting for the day when I will see you again and hold your soft hands, touch your sweet lips and hug you tight so that you will never leave me again.

He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, while he who has one enemy shall meet him everywhere.