Music is a work in progress. On a record, it gets frozen in time. And it's oddly unnatural.

The essential elements of singing are voice, musicianship, and story. It is the rare artist that has all three in abundance.

The thing you have to be prepared for is that other people don't always dream your dream.

The only reason to be with somebody is that they make you a better person and you make them a better person.

Somewhere out there, beneath the pale moonlight, someone's thinking of me and loving me tonight.

Everywhere you go, there's a soundtrack. You can't really quite hear it. It's just a little out of the range of hearing.

When the night wind starts to sing a lonesome lullaby, it helps to think we're sleeping underneath the same big sky.

Even though I know how very far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing underneath the same bright star.

Ninety-nine percent of singing is listening and hearing, and so then 1 percent of it is singing.

I think musicians are always supportive of each other because they want the groove to keep going on. They just basically want to play music.

I think there's mind in nature. There's a power in nature, and there's a universal power that you'd better not ignore.

Failures when are huge, dimish the small gasps of success, but these gasps are enough to bring the successful in you

Whatever your situation, there exist hope

He's my neophyte Downworlder to mock and boss around, not yours.

My father-in-law is so sensitive. Sometimes I think he displays too much love for my children.

The heaviest burden that one has to bear in this life is the burden of delaying too long before putting the fruit in the Jell-O so it's too firm and the chunks just sit on top.

Thunderstorms were rare in California, but when they came they were, like most things in California, larger than life.

To say that these men paid their shillings to watch twenty-two hirelings kick a ball is merely to say that a violin is wood and catgut, that Hamlet is so much paper and ink.

There is a physics to the world, which non-fiction has a contract to stand in awe of, otherwise it becomes completely self-centered and ego-driven, which is the death of a memoir.

The moment we indulge our affections, the earth is metamorphosed.

Many modern scholars have found the asceticism expressed in Plato unacceptable; it does not sound like the advice of a reasonable man in the Cartesian tradition.