“I’d rather be a boy playing with a paper plane, than to be a grown man playing with a woman’s heart.”

Dreams do come true, believe always. I dreamt every night of becoming a singer

Everyone gets that second album syndrome.

We’re never going to escape the idea of being young. Which I don’t mind myself. I mean, who wants to grow up anyway?

I don’t want to live up to how people expect me to be.

Do you think anybody knows that I’m Irish?

I want to live forever! I want to learn how to fly high!

Fans always ask me to marry them so I’ll have a lot of wives.

I want to sell out arenas and make an album and work with some of the best artists in the world.

Changing is for weirdos.

Our band will never change , we will always be 5 singing idiots .

We cut up lemons on a chop board because they are good for our voices.

The type of girls that would sleep with you in a heartbeat aren’t the type of girls I’d want to take home anyway.

I feel I am a little bit older. Reckon I will start growing a beard next week.

If a man whistles at you, don’t turn around. You are a lady not a dog.

I was starstruck by Michelle Obama. She’s an amazing-looking lady, and I’m a massive Barack Obama fan anyway.

I’ll always defend the people I love even though I’m as terrifying as a baby penguin.

I move a bit slower that is fine because I blossom after I hide.

An endless fire burns within me whispers in my ear and encourages me to grow past what I can see.

You made me uncomfortable, in a good way.

If you can’t help them grow let them flourish alone.

My feet are not rooted in the ground I am able to leave the familiar places I have known I am strong enough to grow.

A beautiful dance, a new breath shedding layers of myself to unearth the truth within.

We dream of roses and grow like weeds.

And now you are the butterfly finally free.