“Loving you forever can’t be wrong. Even though you’re not here, can’t move on”

Sometimes, love feels like a life or death situation. Losing true love is pretty much as bad as it gets, other than actually dying or losing good health. Most people know that. Most people can relate. It’s like the end of the world.

I like to write about the way things used to be and paint pictures of my memories with beautiful words and melodies.

I mainly let my imagination be my reality. Fantasy is my reality.

I used to wonder if it was God’s plan that I should be alone for so much of my life. But I found peace. I found happiness within people and the world

I believe that there is no doubts about who I am, an artist who loves music, above everything.

I guess my strongest recurring theme is honoring love, even when it’s lost.

I lived where I could and studied what I enjoyed studying. I took what I wanted from that education but was making my first record at the same time.

I sort of do what I say and say what I do which I’m happy with because it makes my life real easy.

Live fast. Die young. Be wild. Have fun.

A man`s ego is just as fragile as a woman`s heart.

I’m like a child who belongs to nobody.

When you have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen to you or what your career’s going to end up like and you’re just really open to anything, then you don’t really have anything to loose.

I believe nothing happens by mistake. You know, the universe has a divine plan. That sounds dramatic.

I believe in free love and that’s just how I feel.

People have offered me opportunities in exchange for sleeping with them. But it’s not 1952 anymore.

When you get real big baby, remember that little old cowgirl. Waiting for you back in that red river valley.

Everything I know of love is told in the bruises we left on each other.

I know you will take the last of me and I will love you anyway.

I don’t know how else to say it. I will love you for the rest of my life.

The surface of American society is covered with a layer of democratic paint, but from time to time one can see the old aristocratic colours breaking through.

There’s a weight to it, this missing you.

We built futures I’ll never get to visit. But I still have to watch them crumble.

My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.

If this love is going to break me, at least make my suffering sweet. I want to know what you taste like in sweltering summer heat.