It's always been impressive to me when someone can really do what they want onstage. The audience has confidence in the performer and the performer has confidence in the crowd.

It is impossible, after a certain point, to go back to a previous way of life, a previous way of thinking.

Most poets are elitist dregs more concerned with proving their skill with a dictionary than communicating ideas with impact.

August brings into sharp focus and a furious boil everything I've been listening to in the late spring and summer.

Death metal uses a lot of white face paint and black hair dye to make its point. I quite enjoy this genre for its intensity, extremism and underlying irony: You have to be alive to play it and listen to it.

Just understand that the end began long ago We got here just in time Look All the squares in the sidewalks were already there All these strangers have more money than you do All the good riffs have been taken And everyone is so scared Murder is commonplace I don't even flinch at the gunshots outside my window I feel lonely without them

War is very sad and small life is pathetically fragile at times.