“I’m still looking to write a great song. You always are. You know, you never think, ‘Well, that’s enough that’s good enough.’”

I meet so many people that just sort of say, “I want to thank you for your music. It really helped me” or “It changed my life.”

I don’t work at being ordinary.

When you were young, and your heart, was an open book. You used to say, live and let live.

My arrest was on every bloody TV set. The other prisoners all knew who I was and asked me to sing.

One of my biggest thrills for me still is sitting down with a guitar or a piano and just out of nowhere trying to make a song happen.

In the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

I have not practiced how to be a singer without an instrument.

Being in the audience actually looks like quite a lot of fun.

Close your eyes and I’ll kiss you, Tomorrow I’ll miss you.

It’s also not unusual for writers to look backward. Because that’s your pool of resources.

I believe that in the future meditation could be as commonplace in schools and society as eco-awareness is now. It interests me that an ancient cure may be the solution to a modern problem.

What I have to say is all in the music. If I want to say anything, I write a song.

A lot of artists use memories. A lot of prose writers, a lot of poets, a lot of songwriters, refer back to something. Generally it’s all you’ve got, unless you’re brilliant and can write totally in the now.

The good Lord made this world and everything that’s in it. The way I see it, baby, you got to love it to the limit.

I still believe that love is all you need. I don’t know a better message than that.

It’s a lifelong gift, something you can call on at any time.