Full Stories Are As Rare As Honesty.

It Wasn't Like The Spare Rooms Of Immigrants - Packed To The Rafters With All That They Have Ever Possessed, No Matter How Defective Or Damaged, Mountains Of Odds And Ends - The Stand Testament To The Fact That They Have Things Now, Where Before They Had Nothing.

Nowadays, I Know The True Reason I Read Is To Feel Less Alone, To Make A Connection With A Consciousness Other Than My Own.

The Idea That Motherhood Is Inherently Somehow A Threat To Creativity Is Just Absurd.

These Days, It Feels To Me Like You Make A Devil's Pact When You Walk Into This Country. You Hand Over Your Passport At The Check-in, You Get Stamped, You Want To Make A Little Money, Get Yourself Started... But You Mean To Go Back! Who Would Want To Stay? Cold, Wet, Miserable; Terrible Food, Dreadful Newspapers - Who Would Want To Stay? In A Place Where You Are Never Welcomed, Only Tolerated. Just Tolerated. Like You Are An Animal Finally House-trained.

The Roots Of Rap Are Originally Ghetto-ised Or Extremely Working Class. So When You're An Artist Who's Making Something Which Isn't How Its Mainstream Appearance Should Be, There's Always These Strange Questions Of Authenticity And What You Have To Do To Be 'real' As A Rapper.