People ask me if I have stage fright. I say, "God, no, I'm completely comfortable there. I have rest-of-the-day fright."

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

I'm so busy trying to breathe through the pain that I'm breathing through the pain of being with people, and that is no way to spend a life. Eventually, they'll just go away, because you will make them sad. That's something I've proven quite adept at doing over the years.

Sometimes the world seems like a big hole. You spend all your life shouting down it and all you hear are echoes of some idiot yelling nonsense down a hole.

It's impossible having five, six, seven people in a room being creative together and not fight, because you want to fight. It's the only way creativity works, if you all put your ideas in.

I have a lot of problems understanding connections between people and how to negotiate that. It makes everything hard offstage.

I feel like I've been in love, but I have stood aside from it over and over again in my life. It's all you want, but it's terrifying.