Singing is a way of escaping. It’s another world. I’m no longer on earth.

Death is the beginning of something.

I want to make people cry even when they don’t understand my words.

All I’ve done all my life is disobey.

I’d like to see one person – just one – who would own up to having been a coward.

I’ve always wanted to sing, just as I’ve always known that one day I would have my own niche in the annals of song. It was a feeling I had.

Money? How did I lose it? I never did lose it. I just never knew where it went.

As far as I’m concerned, love means fighting, big fat lies, and a couple of slaps across the face.

I don’t want to die an old lady.

Death does not exist.

I wouldn’t mind at all coming back to earth after my death.

People say that I could sing the phone book and make it sound good.

I think you have to pay for love with bitter tears.

To be successful in my native France, where people speak the same language and understand me, is nothing.

Tell me what you’d like to hear me sing. I’ll sing whatever you like, after which I’ll take up a collection, if you don’t mind.

Don’t care what people say. Don’t give a damn about their laws.

I’ve been thinking about Jesus. Don’t you find it a bit strange that, since He was living with His family and all, He up and left them just when they needed him most?

Singing is a way of escaping. It’s another world. I’m no longer on earth.

If God has allowed me to earn so much money, it is because He knows I give it all away.