I'm always proud and pleased when people do my songs. It gives me pleasure that they even attempt them, because a lot of my songs aren't that doable.

After The Beatles came on the scene everyone started putting on a Liverpudlian accent.

We reckoned we could make it because there were four of us. None at us would've made it alone, because Paul wasn't quite strong enough, I didn't have enough girl-appeal, George was too quiet, and Ringo was the drummer. But we thought that everyone would be able to dig at least one of us, and that's how it turned out.

We should be trying to reach the young workers because that's when you're most idealistic and have least fear.

Listen, if anything happens to Yoko and me, it was not an accident.

We've learned over the years that if we wanted we could write anything that just felt good or sounded good and it didn't necessarily have to have any particular meaning to us. As odd as it seemed to us, reviewers would take it upon themselves to interject their own meanings on our lyrics. Sometimes we sit and read other people's interpretations of our lyrics and think, 'Hey, that's pretty good.' If we liked it, we would keep our mouths shut and just accept the credit as if it was what we meant all along.

It was like being in the eye of a hurricane. You'd wake up in a concert and think, Wow, how did I get here?