Ironically, the success I've experienced at country radio has left me ostracized from pop and other formats of radio.

I live out of cans a lot. But I try to indulge only in healthy canned food.

It's meant to reaffirm the validity of that music - clean, minimalist, honest, classic music.

In the past 3-4 years I've developed a habit of keeping numerous small cassette recorders in my house and in a bag with me so that I'm able to commit to tape memory song ideas on a constant basis.

In the dark morning silence, I placed a gun to her head. She wore red dresses, but now she lay dead.

Buddy , you might think that I've lost my mind. But mister, I'd pay twice to do it one more time.

But that is a valid, continuing service that that music - which is, in some cases, 80 or 90 years old - is rendering. And proving its own timelessness.

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere, time don't matter to me. I'm a thousand miles from nowhere and there's not place that I want to be.

Control success before it controls you.

My music is very personal. I've created it in solitude. I face a white wall and beller. I like that sound - the expression of loneliness. That's what it's all about.

Quality is timeless: It will clearly define itself.

Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.

To congratulate oneself on one's warm commitment to the environment, or to peace, or to the oppressed, and think no more is a profound moral fault.

Nothing can come out of an artist that is not in the man.

All religions are both harmful and untrue.

The only time you'll ever have is now.

To be a leader in the Church has always required strength and faith beyond the merely human.

Fortunately, I've also been an electrician, and that's a happy memory for me.

If you want to get an education in how to get a story and how to survive, then get a street reporter job in New York City.

When Eudæmonidas heard a philosopher arguing that only a wise man can be a good general, "This is a wonderful speech," said he; "but he that saith it never heard the sound of trumpets.

God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery.