I think that's more a reflection of the fact I've never been a student of any particular school of writing, or even listening.

When I'm in a city that's just clean, concrete lines, I get really short of breath and confused. It's much more interesting to me when nature is creeping back and tearing the mortar apart between the bricks.

I love storms and how the whole house shakes. When I was a kid, there would be lots of thunder and lightning storms, and they would knock the electricity out. We had this oil lantern that had been in my grandfather's homestead at the turn of the century, before there even was electricity. He'd bring it down off the top shelf, and we'd always play cards.

I said I'd stop for a year, which was inconceivable to me and everyone around me. It seemed like so long. But then, after that year, I looked up and I still hadn't gotten my land legs back at all.

I'm a nostalgic person and I really like rehashing and digging around the mental trunks.

If you keep bashing your head against the same wall, at some point you're going to fall over and be still for awhile.

I know I'm sane I don't give a care for the crown or the shield I will not protect you or happily yield To the one who makes me come undone