Of course I have regrets; I’m not stupid.
The food that’s never let me down in life is porridge, especially with milk and maple syrup, which is delicious. Paris isn’t a porridge place, but I can buy it in London when I’m there and bring it back with me.
I’m having a great life, and I want to go on having one.
I’m a Capricorn, and they flower late.
I’ve simplified much more in my writing. I say what I’ve got to say, not in metaphor.
I’m alive today, I’m well, I’m working, I’m still creative. What more can I say, really?
I’ve learnt to accept what has happened to my voice, I suppose, but I do wish it didn’t sound quite so rough.
My father belonged to a commune, and the food was ghastly. My idea of food hell is the salad cream they’d pour all over bits of lettuce, cucumber and tomato. It was just disgusting.
I’m glad to say my father never felt ashamed of me, but my mother probably did.
I get all dressed up with that Marianne Faithfull face, and the next thing I know, I’m blurting out things that I shouldn’t, trying to get attention when, really, I’ve got everybody’s attention already.
Penitentiary songs have been a love of mine for years. They are so wonderful.
When you lose your reputation at 19, you lose everything.
When I found out my mother wanted me to marry a rich man, I instantly didn’t want any rich man.
I thought I wanted to go to drama school or university, and that would have been a completely different life. But what got me was the sound, and hearing it. Hearing everything so loud, I loved that back in the studio. I loved that from the very beginning.
I’ve got to where I’ve always wanted to be. I just feel more myself, and I’ve learned not to care what other people think. It’s happened slowly, very slowly. But I did it.
For some people, marriage may be very groovy. For me, it really isn’t. I don’t think it really is for most people anyway. Most people are not very happy.
I’ve got a lot of little compulsive problems, and I’ve thought about it a lot. And one of the things I ask myself is, ‘What are the things I can do that won’t hurt me and will help me?’ The first answer is work.
If I let myself sink into depression, I won’t be able to get out. And then I’ll be awfully unhappy. I just have to turn my face to the light and walk on. And trust that things will be all right.
I’ve got quite a good brain and all that, which I’ve never had to use in singing at all.
I’ve done everything I want to do and gone everywhere I want to go.