When I was very young I was sort of floored by the fact that my mother and my father and everyone I knew was going to die one day, and myself too. I had a sort of a philosophical crisis. I couldn't believe that we were mortal.

In the end, I find my influences or inspirations where I can.

Having a simple career as a musician who liked music was good enough for me.

It takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it, to know what true freedom is.

Mary prays the rosary for my broken mind.

In New York I pretty much live in diners - I order French Fries, Diet Coke floats and lots of coffee.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I've got nothing but my aching soul?