I came from the most orthodox background you could ask for.
I wish you a tolerable Thursday. That's all any of us can hope for.
Let's stop playing with ourselves and get on with the entertainment, shall we?
I am severely distracted these days. It's hard to sit in front of the computer, uploading bad music for hours, when you have a wonderful boyfriend who treats you like a Goddess.
I have found that many other countries will buy off on anything American. As much as they hate us, they want to be us more than anything.
I never have anything to talk about.
I remember lying down for a nap one day at about 4:00 and walking up at 11:00 the next morning.
A real Christmas baby was not to be lightly named.
I don't have any intention to stop. Rock 'n' roll is my main concern.
I hope I need not confess that a large part of my stock in trade consists of platitudes rescued from the cobwebbed shelves of yesterday. . . This borrowing and refurbishing of shop-worn goods, as a matter of fact, is the invariable habit of traders in ideas, at all times and everywhere. It is not, however, that all the conceivable human notions have been thought out; it is simply, to be quite honest, that the sort of men who volunteer to think out new ones seldom, if ever, have wind enough for a full day's work.
There are no wrong notes.