And one day, this thing happened to me: I coughed, and the blood just came gushing out of my mouth. . . . I still can't believe that that happened to me, but I sat there, and I said to God, 'Well, if it means I'm going to die, that's OK. ' I don't think I've ever felt that same kind of peace, the kind of serenity that I felt after acknowledging that maybe I was going to die of this TB.
I never, never photograph someone getting high to sell clothes. I was called, at some point, the person responsible for "heroin chic". I didn't have anything to do with "heroin chic".