When I grew up music was something I did on the side - I played sports, I went to school - and so music was always there, and I was really fortunate to have that, but so were so many other things.

There's nothing wrong with being a loser, it just depends on how good you are at it.

Music to me is the air I breathe it's the blood that pumps through my veins that keeps me alive

A man once asked me, what's punk? I kicked over a trash can and said that's punk. He kicked over a trash can and then asked me again, Is that punk? I replied no. That's just trendy.

School is practice for future life, practice makes perfect and nobody's perfect, so why practice?

You can't change the wind but you can set your sails.

Making mistakes is a lot better than not doing anything.

To do something that you feel in your heart that's great, you need to make a lot of mistakes. Anything that's successful is a series of mistakes.

‎The day you become old is the day you're not looking for new experiences anymore.

It's better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven't done.

Punk has always been about doing things your own way. What it represents for me is ultimate freedom and a sense of individuality.

Sometimes I wonder how much of our suffering we allow or impose on ourselves simply in search of our worthiness to accept our own respect and appreciation.

Tis sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home.

I think God has a tremendous sense of humor.

Let a bill, or law, be read, in the one branch or the other, every one instantly thinks how it will affect his constituents.

Even socialist dictators have an interest in gorgeous supermodels.

I only grow hair in places that men like.

Growth is transcending yourself, your habitual self, which is none other than ego.

I saw The Rev the other night and he was on like four different things. He was like, Dude, Ive been gone for three days!

The day we see the truth and cease to speak is the day we begin to die

Money's the same, whoever gives it to you. That was the point of money, after all: crisp and clean or wrinkled or disintegrated into quarters - a dollar was always worth a hundred cents.