“Lord, please watch over all these lost children born to chase the hurricane.”

Any time you’re making a living at what you love to do, you’re blessed.

I never could have dreamed that her heart was so wicked, but I keep coming back because it’s so hard to kick it.

You were the one who made things different, you were the one who took me in. You were the one thing I could count on, above all, you were my friend.

Every verse a diamond, every chorus gold, the sound was my salvation. It was only everything, before money became king.

Even the losers get lucky sometimes. Even the losers keep a little bit of pride. They get lucky sometimes.

You get into your late fifties, people start falling like flies all around you. I don’t take life for granted any more. I’m really glad to be here.

You need eagles wings to get over things that make no sense in this world.

I had the radio on, I was driving. Trees flew by, me and Del were singing, Little Runaway, I was flying.

You believe what you want to believe. You see, you don’t have to live like a refugee.

I’ll stand my ground and I won’t back down.

I’m not any happier anywhere than when I’m in the studio. I’m over the moon about it. It keeps me young, it keeps me feeling like I have some purpose.

My sister got lucky, married a yuppie, and took him for all he was worth. Now she’s a swinger dating a singer, I can’t decide which is worse.

I should have known right then it was too good to last, God, it’s such a drag when you’re livin’ in the past

I love history, doesn’t matter what era, I’m fascinated.

I think to be successful you have to work really hard but you also have to have a little bit of luck.

If you don’t run, you rust.

Frank stared at him. “Unfair? You can breathe underwater and blow up glaciers and summon freaking hurricanes-and it’s unfair that I can be an elephant?” Percy considered. “Okay. I guess you got a point. But the next time I say you’re totally beast-” “Just shut up,” Frank said. “Please.” Percy cracked a smile.

I know you are scared. Who could blame you? Love is a hurricane wrapped inside a chrysalis. And you are a girl walking into the storm.

The feeling is like the ocean. Sometimes calm and still; other times, it’s a hurricane.

As if entrapped in a tropical heatwave, with dozens of whirlwinds swirling in one’s mind, one thinks of a way out, or a way in: out of the scorching bosom of a volcano, and in – into the centre of a raging hurricane.

It is better to meet danger than to wait for it. He that is on a lee shore, and foresees a hurricane, stands out to sea and encounters a storm to avoid a shipwreck.

I am drowning in the aftermath of the hurricane that was us.

It hits me like a train, a hurricane of pain, the type that leaves one breathless whilst imprinting a deep stain; but then by some miracle it slowly fades away again, and I find myself back, forever changed.

I’m a registered Republican, I only seem liberal because I believe that hurricanes are caused by high barometric pressure and not gay marriage.