In my imaginary utopian world there would be a greater allegiance between music writers and musicians.

It bothers me that no one has the patience to deal with someone who is just sad.

I think if I were living in a utopian world, then it wouldn't be political commentary; it would be about daffodils.

It's a strange life... you really don't know how you will impact people or how things will play out.

Being alive and understanding that and making the decision to actually live take a lot of courage.

Sometimes it's better to live through someone's work than the person themselves, and to realise that every human being is flawed, but through art they can be perfect.

I just write what comes to me. I didn't sit down and say ok, here is my statement. It's just a song that has a shout out.

Generally I try to read anything but indie rock journalism or anything about music at all, especially in the summer.

The writing process is very much like being in a dark tunnel, and you don't really know what you will end up with until you have created it.

Until the day we die, our lives are unwritten, which is sometimes a terrifying thought.

It's not my fault that people are perverts.

I can normally tell how intelligent a man is by how stupid he thinks I am.

Through artistry, imagination not only allows one to express their creativity, but also their soul.

Nurture your health, both inside and out.

Wolves directly affect the entire ecosystem, not just moose populations, their main prey, because less moose equals more tree growth

I've actually got turned down for a lot of roles because I'm not bubbly enough. People have told me to be more 'up', but I can't, really. I find it hard to be smiley and giggly all the time.

I had never really been around cards.

A wedding invitation is sent by people who have been saying, "Do we have to ask them?" to people whose first response is, "How much do you think we have to spend on them?

Superstitions typically involve seeing order where in fact there is none, and denial amounts to rejecting evidence of regularities, sometimes even ones that are staring us in the face.

The World, thinking itself affronted by superior merit, takes delight to bring it down to its own level.

Now don't laugh 'cause I just might be...the soft curve in your hardline. (from the song "Hardliners" by Holcombe Waller)