I've noticed that when I am selling a lot of records, certain things become easier. I'm not talking about getting a table in a restaurant.

My favorite time of day is to get up and eat leftovers from dinner, especially spicy food.

Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.

The imminent demise of the large record companies as gatekeepers of the world's popular music is a good thing, for the most part.

I couldn't talk to people face to face, so I got on stage and started screaming and squealing and twitching.

Cycling can be lonely, but in a good way.

I try to write about small things. Paper, animals, a house... love is kind of big. I have written a love song, though. In this film, I sing it to a lamp.

Analysis is like a lobotomy. Who wants to have all their edges shaved off?

Deep down, I know I have this intuition or instinct that a lot of creative people have, that their demons are also what make them create.

I'm just an advertisement for a version of myself.

I don't care how impossible it seems.

... where I walked, the frost shaped itself to my will, dancing in the air like music over water.

Those who want rain, must also accept the mud.

It turned out that time doesn't heal the wound , but in its so merciful way , blunts the edges ever so slightly

You know why they say that, that models are too skinny? Because parents are horrible, they can't tell their sixteen year old daughter she's not really a princess, well guess what, I can.

The renewal of our natures is a work of great importance. It is not to be done in a day. We have not only a new house to build up, but an old one to pull down.

Perhaps selling your children, your future, just happened one bad decision at a time.

It also has potential to cause problems to individuals who had nothing to do with the terrorism issue.

I am continually fascinated at the difficulty intelligent people have in distinguishing what is controversial from what is merely offensive.

Whistling aloud to bear his courage up.

We are thankful for good-will rather than for services, for the motive than the quantum of favor received.