So what is love then is it dictated or chosen (handed down and made by hand) Does it sing like the hymns of a thousand years Or is it just pop emotion (handed down and made by hand) And if it ever was there and it left Does it mean it was never true ...
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain There’s more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line And the less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fin...
I realized in the early days I just didn't edit at all. But I think you become a little more cagey with your lyrics when you know more people are going to hear them and make assumptions about you as a person. Realizing that, you want to be a little m...
I took off my glasses while you were yelling at me once more than once so as not to see you see me react. Should've put 'em, should've put 'em on again so I could see you see me sincerely yelling back.
Why do I write? Out of fear. Out of fear that the memory of the people I write about might go lost. Out of fear that the memory of myself might get lost. Or even just to be shielded by a story, to slip inside a story and stop being recognizable, cont...
For someone in my position, there's opportunities to be anything you want to be, even if you shouldn't be eligible, and I think that's left a bad taste in a lots of financers' and studios' mouths. Just cause someone's popular at one thing, letting th...
I made a lot mistakes that I'm grateful for, because I won't make them again and I won't let my artists make them, or I'll tell them, 'Don't do this.' A lot of them still make them anyway, but you can't be told things when you're doing your own thing...
As much as I want to go out and tour every single day and I'm ready to rip it right now, there's five people in the band, there's five people who've evolved and grown and there's five people who have to get on the same page and want the same things, ...
'Matisse and Picasso' is a little like Plato after Socrates. Socrates only taught in words. He didn't write. And after that, you had Plato and Aristotle to write about what he had said. I write about them because they didn't write about them.
Anarchists are mouthpieces of a declining stratum of society; when they work themselves into a state of righteous indignation demanding 'rights', 'justice', 'equal rights', they are just acting under the pressure of their own lack of culture, which h...
For one thing is needful: that a human being should attain satisfaction with himself, whether it be by means of this or that poetry or art; only then is a human being at all tolerable to behold. Whoever is dissatisfied with himself is constantly read...
I am a wanderer and mountain-climber, said he to his heart, I love not the plains, and it seemeth I cannot long sit still. And whatever may still overtake me as fate and experience—a wandering will be therein, and a mountain-climbing: in the end on...
Usually I like playing other people. I like finding myself through other characters. But when you do cabaret, you are yourself. I think it's the most fun, and I tell you, if somebody had told me that, I would have done it fifteen years earlier than I...
Because the mask is your face, the face is a mask, so I'm thinking of the face as a mask because of the way I see faces is coming from an African vision of the mask which is the thing that we carry around with us, it is our presentation, it's our fro...
My room is like an antique shop, full of junk, and weird stuff. There's a big sword in there. And a taxidermy bird, and a couple of birdcages. And a lot of newspaper cuttings. I used to have a weird thing about cutting out morbid headlines from newsp...
I was having a conversation with my father and he was talking about this thing - strangeness and charm. It's actually the name of the two smallest particles that there are when you split the atom, so I wrote a song around it. I even managed to fit th...
My father was murdered when I was two. Duane, even though he was only a year and 18 days my elder, he became a father figure to me. I would have done anything for my brother - I loved him so much.
I really told my story as I saw it in 'Cross to Bear,' and I was pleased - and a bit surprised - by how well it was received and how it sold. No. 2 on the 'New York Times' bestseller list? I'll take that any day, my man!
My stepfather had an electric guitar. He went to his pawn store one day to get a guitar and an amp, and I couldn't understand what I was hearing. All afternoon, I just sat against the amp and let it reverberate through me. Something must have stuck.
I don't have any friends and don't have any intention of making any. People will stab you in the back, mistreat you, talk about me behind your back, steal from you. And they're not really your friends. They're only there because you're a celebrity or...
I have seen him set fire to his wigwam and smooth over the graves of his fathers... clap his hand in silence over his mouth, and take the last look over his fair hunting ground, and turn his face in sadness to the setting sun.
