You can sit next to somebody on the underground, and you can look at them quite intensely, but you can never, ever know what they're wearing under their clothes.

Art is good for my soul precisely because it reminds me that we have souls in the first place.

I never quite understand the way society decides who is beautiful and who is not. But an open face and a capacity for kindness always feel like reliable signifiers to me.

Most of us live our whole lives without having an adventure to call our own.

It's a real comfort zone for me to feel alien.

How do we identify ourselves, and how do we settle into other people's expectations for our identity?

I would rather be handsome for an hour than pretty for a week.

This self-obsession is a waste of living. It could be spent on surviving things, appreciating nature, nurturing kindness and friendship, and dancing.

I'm really interested in the idea of long, long life and transformation and immortality.

I'm from the same planet as David Bowie.

I'm interested in that whole question of where we wear our identity and how can we see it.

Once you have woken up from your slumber, help lots more others to be awaken, that is the duty you are here to play and play it well before you exit this earth.

My ideas are a shapeless mass that my writing molds into beauty.

…gender is not sane. It's not sane to call a rainbow black and white.

The path of civilization is paved with tin cans.

There are things I like, there are things I strongly dislike. In my DJ sets and in my production I just gravitate towards what I like.

..because the only kind of love I have to offer is stupid and blind and so deep and powerful that I feel like I'm cracking just to hold it in.

I believe that in years to come, historians will see the beginning of the 21st century as the ‘golden age’ of real estate.

When things have a meaning for us, we mean (intend, propose) what we do: when they do not, we act blindly, unconsciously, unintelligently.

Where the loser saw barriers, the winner saw hurdles.

A vice is merely a pleasure to which somebody has objected.