Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.

May your heart always be joyful. May your song always be sung.

Anything I can sing, I call a song. Anything I can't sing, I call a poem.

Yes, and only if my own true love was waiting If I could hear his heart softly pounding Yes, and only if he was lying by me Would I lie in my bed once again.

If you want to know how to please a woman, just talk to a neuroscience major from Columbia.

And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’ But I’ll know my song well before I start singin

She took off her wheel, took off her bell, took off her wig, said, how do I smell? I hot footed it barenaked out the window.