The troubles came and I saved what I could save. A thread of light, a particle, a wave.

I have tried in my way to be free.

If I knew where the good songs came from, I’d go there more often. It’s a mysterious condition. It’s much like the life of a Catholic nun. You’re married to a mystery.

a kite is a victim you are sure of. you love it because it pulls.

I've never thought of myself as a singer anyway. . . I've been free from those considerations because so many people over the years told me I don't have a voice. I kind of bought that. I never thought that much about it to begin with. I knew I didn't have one of the great voices. As my Damon Runyanesque lawyer used to say, "none of you guys can sing. If I want to hear singing, I'll go to the Metropolitan Opera."

I don't really understand that process called reincarnation but if there is such a thing I'd like to come back as my daughter's dog.

Raise a million filters and the rain will not be clean, until the longing for it be refined in deep confession.