“Some things get better with age. Like me.”

It’s great to be here. It’s great to be anywhere.

Songwriting’s a weird game.

If you’ve gotta think about being cool, you ain’t cool.

I’m free of hypochondria– although I’ve got everything else.

Everybody’s got a different way of telling a story – and has different stories to tell.

When I listen to what I did under the influence – 10 years of work – I don’t think it either enhanced or impaired me. It didn’t have that much to do with it.

I’ve never turned blue in someone else’s bathroom. I consider that the height of bad manners.

If you stay up, you get the songs that everyone else misses because they’re asleep.

I have no idea what the audience makes of me.

I mean some doctor told me I had six months to live and I went to their funeral.

But I’ve always felt very comfortable on stage, even if I screw up. It always felt like a dog, this is my turf, piss around it. While I’m here, nothing else can happen. All I can do is screw up. Otherwise, have a good time.

To a musician or songwriter, your canvas is silence.

One of the great things about songwrighting; it’s not an intellectual experience.

I only get ill when I give up drugs. I don’t have a drug problem, I have a police problem.

We age not by holding on to youth, but by letting ourselves grow and embracing whatever youthful parts remain.

Music is a language that doesn’t speak in particular words. It speaks in emotions, and if it’s in the bones, it’s in the bones.

Welcome to the world of bullshit, my dear. You have arrived.

She breathed love like air. She was Paris turned human.

She loves like a awakening.

What you see is what you get. She’s already magic; she doesn’t need tricks.

You are such a wild and soft thing.

She’s lightening and she’s ready to strike the bones out of you.

She’s a jesus lover who likes to dance with the devil sometimes.

I was raised on the mountains, and you thought I’d be afraid of a little thunder?