My grandfather was smart and had a whole lot of pride. He didn't speak a terrible amount, but you could tell there was a ton on his mind - like a quiet acceptance of how life had turned out.

This unrequited love, to me it's nothing but a one-man cult/And cyanide in my styrofoam cup

Don't feel sad over someone who gave up on you, feel sorry for them because they gave up on someone who would have never given up on them.

I'm extremely compassionate, loving, all of those warm fuzzy things, but the outer shell doesn't project that all the time.

With my art, it's the one thing that I know will outlive me and outlive my feelings. It will outlive my depressive seasons.

You just do what you can and you have as much fun as possible.

It's cool to be recognised by your peers.