“We usually seek the divine in the sky, But religion is best found on the ground. Nature is our true creator.”

You could not keep me fed by throwing me bones and empty promises. I am ashamed to admit how much starving I did before I finally left.

Can hope bloom in the shade? Can time give back what it takes away? I once saw the answers to life in your eyes; now I can remember the words to goodbye.

In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.

If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.

I fall headlong into everything that lights me on fire. I know not of restraint. I was born to burn.

Anxiety is living with an apple on your head and you imagine that everyone you know stands watching with a bow to shoot an arrow at it.

The stars are where we came from. They orchestrated our return to the place we can always come home: our ancient, timeless love.

You are what it feels like to watch the final silvers of sun fall and die into the silver ocean; tangerine sky giving way to moon-glow and starlight.

We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.

Last night, I sent you home with a kiss and a promise. I hope you still believe in roses.

Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.

Standing in your power scares a lot of people. You become something formidable, intimating, and aspirational all at once.

Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.

Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?

The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.

“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.

I want to deal with what’s in front of me now to the best of my abilities, and sometimes that’s not very good. But a lot of the days it is really great.

I want to be the best player to ever play this game.

If you don’t think that you’re the best, how do you become the best?

I think musicians are perfect at knowing how to get the best out of other musicians. I can really relate to that communion.

I do my best to tell a story whenever I write music because I want to paint the most vivid picture that tells a story whether a person is falling in love for the first time or going through a painful heartbreak.

It’s the best way for people to get to me know.

In everything the middle road is best.

No wonder children struggle so fiercely to be first or best.