I'm really good in pain. I snapped my leg in half on stage and played a whole show. But I can't sit there with someone that loves me.

Over and over again in my life, I find closeness to other people and proximity to other people really painful; that's part of my mental illness, social anxiety. Closeness to other people is really hard, but it's also a shame because it's all you want too. But it doesn't always work.

We waste a lot of our lives sometimes. There are people sitting across from us who would make the whole world better if we spent more time with them in it, but we can't get across that gully.

Closeness to another person is like a fear of falling off a building to me. It's really, like, physically painful, and it's a brand of crazy I don't appreciate having.

You want to embrace, but I can't figure out how to hold on to it.

For me, songwriting is something like breathing: I just do it. But that doesn't mean you're fantastic.

When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely.