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

I don't trust my inner feelings, inner feelings come and go.

Your body will never be familiar.

Journalists, especially English journalists, were very cruel to me. They said I only knew three chords when I knew five!

It just takes a long time for me [to write a song]. I'm very slow. And it comes, kind of, by dribbles and drops.

Everytime you grab at love you will lose a snowflake of your memory

Some people, it [songwriting] comes faster. Some people, it comes slower.