“Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts.”

Most people you’d tell “I’m gonna be a musician,” they’d say, “you’re crazy, you’re gonna starve, you’re gonna be poor, a drug addict, go to jail, you’ll never make it, there’s too much competition.

Some love is just a lie of the heart, the cold remains of what began with a passionate heart.

Davey Crocket, Peter Pan, Elvis Presley, Disneyland.

Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes; I’m afraid it’s time for goodbye again

You can pay Uncle Sam with all your overtime, is that all you get for your money?

There are people who have lost every trace of human kindness.

We all end in the ocean. We all start in the streams. We’re all carried along, by the river of dreams.

I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints – the sinners are much more fun.

…And you’re the only one who knows.

You can walk away from your mistakes You can turn your back on what you do Just a little smile is all it takes And you can have your cake and eat it too.

You want to give people a reason to hate my guts more? I’m making more money.

Even when I stop performing or stop making records I won’t stop being creative. Songwriting is a good outlet.

Give us this day our daily discount outlet merchandise…

you may be right, I may be crazy, but it just might be a lunatic you’re looking for

I didn’t graduate high school, so I never got a teacher’s education, I’m mostly self-read, self-taught.

It’s OK if you mess up. You should give yourself a break.

Things do not have to be shiny and loud, to be important.

Can I doubt the shape of the earth? Can I judge a minute for lasting sixty seconds, a day for being grey or cold and leaves for falling from trees? Can I speak too loud when I am angry or stay quiet when I disagree? Can I forget about the norms and make some of my own?

I talk too much speak too much I think out loud wish I knew what’s on your mind. – overthinking.

No matter what happens, I’m loud, noisy, earthy and ready for much more living.

Your silence was my loudest cry.

The winter wind is loud and wild, Come close to me, my darling child; Forsake thy books, and mate less play; And, while the night is gathering grey, We’ll talk its pensive hours away.

Its always the quiet ones who love the loudest.

The loudest cries are heard in silence.