As a songwriter there's nothing more exciting than the unknown, the new and different.

Songwriting is different from music, although I don't deny now that it would be nice to have a little more background in music theory.

Chelsea Morning is a great Joni Mitchell song and I guess I'm partial to her lyrics because they show me a slightly different perspective on life.

When you're on a merry-go-round, you miss a lot of the scenery.

Songs are life in 80 words or less.

Brooklyn is not the easiest place to grow up in, although I wouldn't change that experience for anything.

Love is still a simple act of faith, and a faithful heart is always worth the wait.

The music is key. It has the power to transport you. I go from being a slightly insecure, shy kind of a person offstage, to this super-confident, motivated, entity onstage.

Performing is the easiest part of what I do, and songwriting is the hardest.

Then come and as we lay, beside this sleepy glade, there I will sing to you my Longfellow serenade.

Drop your shrink and stop your drinkin', crunchy granola's neat.

The great are strongest when they stand alone, A God-given might of being is their force.

People whose own dreams aren't completed, help others to accomplish their dreams.

When you're talented, you're talented.

I feel as if I go to Africa, I may never come back. I'm just going to live with the animals and adopt an elephant, and it's going to be my friend.

The views of men can only be known, or guessed at, by their words or actions.

Nothing will be left, Nothing in the air, nothing under the earth, nothing in the waters. All will be exterminated.

The domain of the ballet dancer is not earth but air.

Love leaves legacy. How you treated other people, not your wealth or accomplishments, is the most enduring impact you can leave on earth.

If there's anyone out there who has taken extreme to a new level, its Joe De Sena - in adventure racing, in business, and ultimately in the business of adventure! Spartan Up! is must-read.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.