It's not the endings that will haunt youBut the space where they should lie, The things that simply fadedWithout one final wave goodbye.

There is freedom waiting for you, On the breezes of the sky, And you ask "What if I fall?"Oh but my darling, What if you fly?

what if I fall? oh, my darling, but if you fly?

There are ghosts of yourself scattered everywhere, Whispers of a moment suspended in time, Where every life that you've brushed up againstNow lives with a piece of you trapped in their mind.

Because the birdsong might be pretty, But it's not for you they sing, And if you think my winter is too cold, You don't deserve my spring.

My mother always told meNo monster lived beneath my bed, But she had failed to warn meIt laid on top of it instead.

Your blindness to my downfall, Has gone too far to be a joke, As I stand ablaze before you, And you tell me you smell smoke.

Don't ever think you're alone here, We've just been trapped in different hells, And people aren't against you dear, They're just all for themselves.

If we grow in faith, we shall never seize to bear fresh fruit.

I want you to want me. But I want you to want me for all the right reasons.

The air we see in the paintings of the old masters is never the air we breathe.

I'm very much of the mindset that if you've made the record you wanted to make and there's nothing about it that you would change, then you should just be proud and happy with what you've done.

If something comes from your heart, it will reach the heart of your audience.

Make it simple to last your whole life long. Don't worry that it's not enough for anyone else to hear. Just sing, sing a song

[On a strained relationship between a tennis champion and her mother:] There comes a time when it's probably not cool for your mom to be your best friend.

I'm not a worrier. I like sleeping.

For a pure sense of being tumultuously alive, you can't beat the nasty side of existence.

A good soldier never leaves a man behind.