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A lot of times I feel I probably would have ended up in a mental hospital if it weren't for the structure that 'Bones' gave me.

In every war, there's looting.

Clothing started as an armor for me. It was one of the ways that I protected myself from the world. It evolved into a form of creative expression.

My arm bones looked like chicken bones.

War is a way of shattering to pieces... materials which might otherwise be used to make the masses too comfortable and... too intelligent.

They went into my closets looking for skeletons, but thank God, all they found were shoes, beautiful shoes.

One time I got dressed in all black, Rambo-style, and took a massive pair of bolt-cutters and nicked a military bike.

They were without clothes before I got there, and they were without clothes when I left.

My bones are tired from all the tragedy in me.

From the ship all things were taken out, so that the clothes which I took with me on my back I only had.