There's the whole significance of Krishna as the flute player who awakens our consciousness. It doesn't necessarily have to be a flute because for me it was a sitar or a guitar or even Elvis Presley doing "Heartbreak Hotel." It was like Krishna's flute calling me somewhere. It's just really simple when we can remember.

All things must pass, all things must pass away.

George: 'Ringo would always say grammmatically incorrect phrases and we'd all laugh. I remember when we were driving back to Liverpool from Luton up the M1 motorway in Ringo's Zephyr, and the car's bonnet hadn't been latched properly. The wind got under it and blew it up in front of the windscreen. We were all shouting, 'Aaaargh!' and Ringo calmly said, 'Don't worry, I'll soon have you back in your safely-beds.

I still practice Transcendental Meditation and I think it's great. Marharishi only ever did good for us, and although I have not been with him physically, I never left him.

The media is to blame for everything, for all the misconceptions about the movement, but in a sense it didn't really matter if they said something good or bad, because Krishna consciousness always seemed to transcend that barrier anyway. The fact that the media was letting people know about Krishna was good in itself.

The people gave their money and they gave their screams, but the Beatles gave their nervous systems, which is a much more difficult thing to give.

Chanting Hare Krishna is a type of meditation that can be practiced even if the mind is in turbulence. You can even be doing it and other things at the same time. That's what's so nice. In my life there's been many times the mantra brought things around. It keeps me in tune with reality, and the more you sit in one place and chant, the more incense you offer to Krishna in the same room, the more you purify the vibration, the more you can achieve what you're trying to do, which is just trying to remember God, God, God, God, God, as often as possible.