Emilie Autumn

Nothing in my life has ever made me want to commit suicide more than people's reaction to my trying to commit suicide.

What's the big fucking deal? Lots of amazing people have committed suicide, and they turned out alright.

I cut myself because you wouldn't let me cry.I cried because you wouldn't let me speak.I spoke because you wouldn't let me shine.I shone because I thought you loved me...

I feel as though, if I were to extend my hand just a little toward the pool where the ideas ferment, I could grab at the idea and pull it out of the pool and onto the floor where ideas must stand before the jury of the brain. There, it must present itself, still from the pool, and a bit shivery because new ideas are not given a towel to dry off with, towels being reserved for proven theories; new ideas are simply pulled and stood up, and asked to explain themselves - not a very pleasant thing really, which is why so many people go into the room where the pool is. The exercise is exhausting not to mention a bit difficult to watch, if you are at all a sympathetic creature. What was my idea, anyways?

Revenge itself may indeed be the best revenge, but slaying one's enemy does not give back what they stole.

DeathWish: You spent some time working with Courtney Love and Billy Corgan on a creative level, how did this experience help your growth as an artist?EA: It didn't -- it stunted it entirely. I gave up over a year of my life and career helping Billy with his flop of an album and designing and building all of the costumes for his music video. With Courtney, we were friends, but I spent years working to record and promote her flop of an album only to find that my value increased every time I peed in an orange juice bottle so that she could fake her way through a drug test. Not exactly a haven for artistic growth.

He cried when I left, which I find to be standard male behavior.

Why can I never go back to bed? Who's is the voice ringing in my head? Where is the sense in these desperate dreams? Why should I wake when I'm half past dead?

You know the games I play And the words I say When I want my own way You know the lies I tell When you've gone through hell And I say I can't stay You know how hard it can be To keep believing in me When everything and everyone Becomes my enemy and when There's nothing more you can do I'm gonna blame it on you It's not the way I want to be I only hope that in the end you will see It's the Opheliac in me

Studies show:Intelligent girls are more depressedBecause they knowWhat the world is really likeDon't think for a beat it makes it betterWhen you sit her down and tell herEverything gonna be all rightShe knows in society she either isA devil or an angel with no in betweenShe speaks in the third personSo she can forget that she's me

Perfume was first created to mask the stench of foul and offensive odors...Spices and bold flavorings were created to mask the taste of putrid and rotting meat...What then was music created for?Was it to drown out the voices of others, or the voices within ourselves?I think I know.

You," he said, "are a terribly real thing in a terribly false world, and that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.

I am my heart__ undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.

History written in pencil is easily erased, but crayon is forever.

It is this, not the spirits, that frightens us; shall we never be free, even after we die?

It is not seen as insane when a fighter, under an attack that will inevitable lead to his death, chooses to take his own life first. In fact, this act has been encouraged for centuries, and is accepted even now as an honorable reason to do the deed. How is it any different when you are under attack by your own mind?

It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill.

My reasons to liveWere my reasons to dieBut at least they were mineNow I've freedom unboundCut the laces of life