“Here’s a little song I wrote. You might want to sing it note for note. Don’t worry, be happy.”

I found that if I sang a line using the consonants, vowels, shadings, and inflection we recognize as human language sounds, people responded as if I were talking to them.

You can try a new way of singing a song you’ve performed for years, a new way of showing your family your love for them, or a new recipe.

I want them to have this sense of real, real joy from the depths of their being. Because I think when you take them to that place, then you open up a place where grace can come in.

Improvisation is the courage to move from one note to the next.

And you realise you’re doing a public service in making people happy – as a musician you can give people something a doctor, a lawyer, a politician cannot give them that. It’s not scientific.

It’s not that I don’t love the song. My songs are like my children: some you want around and some you want to send off to college as soon as possible.

Whenever I’m onstage, I try my best not to think that I’m performing. It’s simply another part of my day.

My father was a very disciplined singer who worked hard at his craft, and I was around that growing up.

When we listen to improvisational jazz, or solo classical violinists, the way they phrase and inflect melodies feels vocal, like they’re talking to us.

Each of us might give that phrase a different meaning. It’s open to interpretation, and one song becomes a thousand songs. I love that.

Remembering that life can be full of surprises is useful in any part of your life.

I actually fought the idea for a while because it seemed almost too radical, but it became obvious what I was supposed to be doing.

The true musician is to bring light into people’s hearts.

The voice gets to the soul of a person more than any other instrument. Because it’s the voice. It sings talks, it cries, it laughs, it squeals, it barks, it shouts it whispers, There is no other instrument that can do that. We’re born with it.