A really strong woman accepts the war she went through and is ennobled by her scars.
As a singer I tried on all these hats, these voices, these clothes, and eventually out came me.
My scar is beautiful. It looks like an arrow.
I always sang standards because the songs I wrote for myself weren't as easy to sing.
My look was even more solidified when I started singing in Greenwich Village with my sister Lucy. We wore matching dresses as the Simon Sisters.
Well, I tried to get a record deal in 1966 or '67, and everyone thought I was too eclectic.
I think that most people really know if it's a really great album.
I had this terrible stammer, so I couldn't really speak properly until I was 16 or 17.
We need role models who are going to break the mold.
But when we listened to the radio, it was Bill Haley and the Comets or the Everly Brothers.
You know when you take the paint off an old canvas and you discover that something's been painted underneath it? That's what I feel like - that part of the old is coming through the new.
I've gone through the village of my songwriting and my artistry, and I've gone through lots of different phases, including one where it has been very quiet and abandoned me for a few years.
Sometimes my boyfriend would write the lyrics and I would write the melody, and other times I would start from scratch. Or sometimes I would take a local poem and put that to music.
We went to see all the shows. American musical theater and jazz were very big.
My father was a classical pianist, and my mother was a singer of just about everything.
We are in this period now where we all are trying to be in shape physically and deny ourselves any pleasure.
You're lucky you had that when you were 20. I sure didn't. I was overweight, and I had acne.
No, because I've never really changed my style that much.
There was a French singer, Francoise Hardy - I used to look at her pictures and try to dress like her.
So I suppose this slightly mature fashion sense happened because of what I had.
