Your eyes were the bait luring me into your world. Your kiss was the trap door keeping me prisoner there.

Forbidden things - my God, I'm drawn to them like a moth to a flame.

Her eyes, full of ancient, sacred wisdom. Her bones, deposits of inherited bravery. She is a proud descendant of strong, courageous women who went to the stakes fighting for their truths.

Be with someone who willingly runs in the storm with you, not someone who cowers away because of turbulent winds.

She’s into authentic hearts and mind shattering conversations. Good music and quirky art. Weirdness and eccentric people. Love, kindness and genuine souls. She’s into all this and so much more.

She's a dark-eyed, red flame, bohemian hurricane.

I swear that girl was born with a pen in her hand, the moon in her hair and stars in her soul.

You have dirty hands and dark wild eyes, but by far you are the purest heart I have ever known.

Your soul is so bohemian, free and gypsy wild. Come swim with me in the calming sea, let's be mermaids for awhile.

Old soul. Poet's heart. Warriors mind.

Once our souls collided and caught fire, there was no turning back. Love is a collision of two stars -- it's as simple and as complicated as that.

And if humanity is the last war, then I am the battlefield.

The truth of the scholar, alone in his study, does not always accord with what the world at large considers to be true.

I've always been intrigued by the power of secrets. When is it justifiable to keep them from the ones we love? And does keeping them irrevocably change who we are?

Touring, and being in a band, it's almost like the other stuff, the other parts of life, get put on hold.

[On the writers she admires:] I prefer dead writers, because I don't see them at parties.

For Sunday breakfast, I make orange and ricotta pancakes, crepes and eggs. You know men, we usually go for breakfast because it's the easiest thing to cook and then we try to make it seem fancy.

Eventually, I want to be a creative producer that isn't in things. The acting is more of a secondary thing for me now.

The same law applies to me. Nobody has sued me for libel because I do not defame my enemies.

It will pass, it will all pass, we're going to be so happy! If our love could grow any stronger it would grow stronger because there is something horrifying in it.

Poetry is poetry, and one's objective as a poet is to achieve poetry precisely as one's objective in music is to achieve music.