I have Social Disease. I have to go out every night. If I stay home one night I start spreading rumors to my dogs.

I just do art because I’m ugly and there’s nothing else for me to do.

The child-like, gum-chewing naïveté , the glamour rooted in despair, the self admiring carelessness, the perfected otherness, the wispiness, the shadowy, voyeuristic, vaguely sinister aura, the pale, soft-spoken magical presence, the skin and bones…

The most exciting thing is not doing it. If you fall in love with someone and never do it, it's much more exciting.

It's excitement, it's show business, it's chic

I'm afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning.