“My eyes went blank, and I stared off, and the music started. It was raining, and the sun was shining at the same time.”

To sing the ballad with a knowingness about what you are talking about.

Once you discover that you can, then you must.

If it’s somebody else’s lyric, and the message is a little unusual for you, it requires that you learn that new message.

I’m walking every day and just staying kind of fit, and try not to have too many bad habits. Keep it minimal.

When you have that light in your eye, that you feel so good, and you’re a pleasant person to be around. “Good morning, sir. Did you find everything that you need?

Every living thing tends toward the good or we would have been gone a long time ago

It was predicted in the grooves that we would be here sometime later on down the road.

I really do see it as the start of the second half of my career.

That’s why it’s so important for people today and during any time to expose your children to lots of different kinds of things.

I don’t know where we got the notion that God wants us to suffer..

I think a singer is an athlete. I’ve always tried to stay fit.

Oh, that’s over in aisle seven. I’ll come help you as soon as,” that’s the stuff. Find something. It could be planting flowers, especially if you can watch it.

I sang do-wop on the street corner before it was called do-wop.I can sing some polkas. And proud of that.

I was crawling around inside of her. She was a church pianist. My dad was a brilliant singer. I was hearing it.

I know more polkas than Frankie Yankovic. I grew up next door to the Polka Tavern in Milwaukee.

I watched Elvis Presley become – I listened to Elvis Presley. I watched Chuck Berry become. I listened to Little Richard.

I try to block out everything that distracts me. Even a big play, I blank it out.

If they had said that the sun or the moon had gone out of the heavens, it could not have struck me with the idea of a more awful and dreary blank in creation than the words: Byron is dead!

Ignorance is a blank sheet, on which we may write; but error is a scribbled one, on which we must first erase.

I want an infinitely blank book and the rest of time.

It’s so fine and yet so terrible to stand in front of a blank canvas.

The blank page gives us the right to dream.

A word is a bud attempting to become a twig. How can one not dream while writing? It is the pen which dreams. The blank page gives the right to dream.

I advance all of my canvas at one time.