I am not a saint, unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.

I'm pretty, but I'm not beautiful. I sin but I'm not the devil. I'm good, but I'm not an angel

My manners, abominable at times, can be sweet. As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind. I'm a wretch. But I love, love.

I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love.

I'm not a genius. I'm just a tremendous bundle of experience.

As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind.

I am neither virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life.

Young man, the secret of my success is that at an early age I discovered that I was not God.

Young man, the secret of my success is that at an early age I discovered that I was not God.

I don't want to be a genius-I have enough problems just trying to be a man.

"Baby," I said, "I'm a genius but nobody knows it but me."

But I'm Crazy. I swear to God I am.

And thus I clothe my naked villainy
With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ;
And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.

I may be no better, but at least I am different.