Your skin upon my skin, in the beating of our hearts, may the living let us in, before the dead tear us apart.

Blame it on the lies that killed us. Blame it on the truth that ran us down.

They put a rifle in my hand, sent me off to a foreign land to go and kill the Yellow man.

I guess there's just a meanness in this world

I heard a political message in rock music. A liberation message. A message of freedom. I heard it in Elvis' voice.

Work creates an enormous sense of self and I saw that in my mother. She was an enormous, towering figure to me in the best possible way. I picked up a lot of things from her in the way that I work... I also picked up a lot of the failings of when your father doesn't have those things and that results in a house that turns into a minefield.

You still had to find the music inside your language. You know, it was - that's a big part of what sort of moved me to begin writing the book. I wrote a little essay and I felt, yeah, this is a good voice. This is a good feeling. It feels like me.