I think there's so much about Rasta culture that's interesting. Just the idea of preaching one-ness, that we're all in this together.

My head's a carousel of pictures and The spinning never stops.

I really just want to be warm yellow light that pours over everyone I love.

I find that life is easier when it is just a blur With no details to confuse who or what or where I was So when the ending comes the full regret will be obscure

Now I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers and laid entwined together on a bed of clover and left there to sleep, left there to dream of their happiness.

It's not a movie, no private screening This method acting, well, I call that living

I drink to stay warm, and to kill selected memories

I like to feel the burn of the audience's eyes when I'm whispering all my darkest secrets into the microphone.

If the world could remain within a frame like a painting on the wall, I think we'd see the beauty then and stand staring in awe.

You should never be embarrassed by your trouble with living, because it's the ones with the sorest throats who have done the most singing.

I've cried, and you'd think I'd be better for it, but the sadness just sleeps, and it stays in my spine the rest of my life.

A life that is happy and has no money, is better then a life unhappy with money.

Forms are vehicles and instruments, and vehicles and instruments cannot be called good or bad without context.

The Apparent is the Bridge to the Real

Our differences need not divide us because even as we are unique and individual, we are also all one.

Ask Gandhi, and eye for an eye makes us both blind.....ask an engineer, and the numbers don't lie - the first to strike wins.

The French are true romantics. They feel the only difference between a man of forty and one of seventy is thirty years of experience.

The score is still Q to 12!

Philosophers who pay for their semantics by drawing checks on Darwin are in debt way over their heads.

Sam dropped me off. When she was too far away to see me, I started to cry again. Because she was my friend again. And that was enough for me.

It is a question of fact, whether the influence of motives be fixed by laws of nature, so that they shall always have the same effect in the same circumstances.