When I went to college, I wasn't interested in fashion anymore - I was interested in art.

I grew up in Columbus, Indiana, a kind of industrial and farmland place.

I lived in town until I was eight and then I moved nearer the farmland, so I had a mixture.

I finished high school there and then I went to Rhode Island School of Design.

But after the time there I'd had it with fashion again, so I left to go to architecture school in a summer course at Harvard, which didn't last very long.

I watched television a little, but I mostly just drew and read magazines.

The photograph, the clothes, the sets - this was about 1974, and I started hanging out with my friend Richard Sold, who was playing in a band with Patti Smith.

I got to the point where I was sick of fashion again, like I was at the end of high school.

Maybe if they all could he combined - art, rock and fashion. Those were always my favorite things.

I just really wanted to do art, except when I was taking those photographs of people I would make the clothes that I would photograph them in so I could control the whole thing.

Then I moved down to the Bowery to this building where Debbie Harry lived. It was there that I started combining some clothes for her and continued doing the art and photography.

He's satisfied with himself. If you have a soul you can't be satisfied.

when one's avenue of retreat is cut off there is only one way to go - forward.

And all the loveliest things there be Come simply so it seems to me.

People say to me, "You make fantastic films" and I say, "No, I make documentaries.

Ten Downing Street is a house, not an office. That is its most important characteristic.

I think the most common cause of insomnia is simple; its loneliness.

I have relentlessly beat the drum for Google's 'two-step' authentication systems for Gmail and other services, which radically reduce the likelihood that your account can be hacked from afar.

Be strong then, and enter into your own body; there you have a solid place for your feet.

They bit you. You should've changed, too, you know." "Sometimes I wish I had," I told him. He closed his eyes, miles away on the other side of the bed. "Sometimes I do, too.

We are nearer neighbors to ourselves than the whiteness of snow or the weight of stones are to us: if man does not know himself, how should he know his functions and powers?