Artist

I like living sparsely. In the main room, there's no furniture - no tables, no chairs, no coffee table - not even a decaffeinated coffee table.

My theory is that the way you cope with the depths will ascertain the heights that you reach - they are intimately connected - and if you have a lust for life, you are also going to have a lust for death.

If I hear that people are litigious, I immediately dismiss them.

Pain can be vitalising; it gives intensity in the place of vagueness and emptiness. If we don't suffer, how do we know that we live?

I am a fraud. I have cobbled together my personality from hundreds of little bits. I am simultaneously the most genuine and the most artificial person you will ever meet.

Being a dandy is a condition rather than a profession. It is a defense against suffering and a celebration of life.

I am half-Byronic, half-moronic; part-shaman, part-showman.

I don't talk, I quote. I can't help it. It's better to be quotable than honest.

I do a lot of things for effect, which is not to say I am superficial, but that I know how to put ideas across.

Why shouldn't I be allowed to say stupid, outrageous things?