Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove Dance me to the end of love

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.

I swear by this song and by all that I have done wrong, I will make it all up to thee.

The birds they sangat the break of day.Start again!!I heard them say

It’s a depressing habit you have of loving to sneeze and of eating apples as if they were juicier for you and being the first one to exclaim how good the movie is. You depress people. We like apples too.

A man never got a woman back... not by begging on his knees.

The psychologists are valiantly trying to provide us with answers, the religious people are trying to provide us with answers. I think it properly falls on the cultural workers to investigate this predicament with a little less concern for the marketplace and a little more concern for their higher calling.