It sounds corny, but it's absolutely true: A song chooses me. I don't go looking for a certain kind of lyric. It kind of develops its own little arc and I'll just see what happens.

People say I'm such a pessimist, but I always was. It never stopped me from doing what I had to do. I would say I'm a realist.

You don't get to choose how you're going to die, or when. You can only decide how you're going to live. Now.

Only you and I can help the sun rise each coming morning. If we don't, it may drench itself out in sorrow.

My father was a physicist and also an activist. My first public protest was with my dad at Stanford. I came by all that honestly.

God must have something to do with joy ... and with sadness.

Sometimes I get lonesome for a storm. A full blown storm where everything changes. The sky goes through four days in an hour, the trees wail, little animals skitter in the mud and everything gets dark and goes completely wild. But it is really God - playing music in his favourite cathedral in heaven - shattering stained glass - playing a gigantic organ - thundering on the keys - perfect harmony - perfect joy.