By the time I recognize this moment, this moment will be gone. . . But I will bend the light, pretend that it somehow lingered on

I have the obsessiveness of someone who's a sober, recovering addict displacing his addiction. Except I never had the addiction.

Everybody is just a stranger, but that's the danger in going my own way.

You know I used to be the back porch poet with my book of lines, always hoping knowing all the time, I'm probably never gonna find the perfect rhyme. . .For heavier things

It's almost charity work, what people have done, turning other people on to my music.

Love is like grass. If you fall on it, it may leave a stain and some temporary pain. But you'll get over the pain, it will eventually stop hurting. Now maybe the stain ruined your favourite pair of jeans, or maybe it was nothing special that was ruined, but either way the stain remains there. And with time, it will begin to fade, but it will always be there, a permanent reminder that you, too, once fell.

My fear is that I go up to the girl of my dreams and say 'I'm sorry, but I've got to say hello to you,' and she slides the stool back and gets up and walks away, saying, 'Not for me, Bub. I don't want anything to do with you.'