I wanted to be a cheerleader, like my sister was - all the most popular and beautiful girls are cheerleaders and I wanted that, and it demolished this vision of myself. That's when I found the piano, when music saved me; that's when I first attempted to write my own songs.
I've left Bethlehem, and I feel free. I've left the girl I was supposed to be, and some day I'll be born.
I'm a songwriter who's put my childhood memories and teenage angst into songs.
I like doing the crossword puzzle in the New York Times, not watching E! on TV.
People have become less discriminating listeners, which is tragic, really. There's a lot of emperor's new clothes out there, whether they're female or male solo acts. That bothers me. It's hard to break through, and it's like climbing Mount Everest if you actually do.
I hope and believe we are paving a better future for female artists to come.
Didgeridoo was something I picked up while I was on tour in Australia with Peter Gabriel in '93. I found out later that it's only meant to be played by men.
I'd love to act. I feel that it's another naked, mysterious challenge, like jazz. It kind of intrigues me in the same way.
The older I get, the more I see that there really aren't huge zeniths of happiness or a huge abyss of darkness as much as there used to be. I tend to walk a middle ground.
I'm still trying to find out who Paula Cole is. I always am - and I always will be - my real, inside self, which has no name.
So I'm writing more highly personalized and intellectual music, and I think that's good. It might take longer to find me, but I think that niche is perhaps underserved, so I'm going to serve that.
Feminists were psyched that I had armpit hair.
The flower has opened, has been in the sun and is unafraid. I'm taking more chances; I'm bold and proud.