I struggle sometimes superficially with my management or with my own career about how much time I spend traveling or giving myself away to promote my music or myself when I'd rather be gardening or surfing or being at home with my loved ones. And everyone struggles with that; everyone struggles with having to go to work. And I struggle with how humankind ended up this way.

But that guitar is the perfect companion to the human voice. You rest it against your gut, against your heart, and when you strum it the vibrations go outwards for all to hear, but the vibration also hits you on your body.

I write my miserable songs. I write songs about disgust and self-pity. We’re all going to have bummer moments. That’s not the stuff I choose to share.

As an American citizen, one has to vote.

Whether or not I tour forever, I'm not sure. I would love to spend more time living in harmony with nature rather than flying all over the world and contributing to global warming, you know what I mean?

The unavoidable kiss, where the minty fresh death breath is sure to outlast his catastrophe.

But you are beautiful And you better go show it So go look again You gotta be true to your own If you really wanna go to the top Do you really wanna win Don’t believe in leaving normal Just to satisfy demand ((Beauty in Ugly))