I always try to give my songs as gifts.

I hate the road so much. I almost go into a cocoon with my own people out there.

I'm a child of the woods. I have that sort of sensibility.

Waiting for wisdom to open the cage, we forged in the fires of the innocent age.

Are you under the power of gold?

I'm not the quiet sensitive little guy I was. I can't be. There's just too much after me.

I had gone full-on folkie; I'd had it with bands.