Here's to the few who forgive what you do, and the fewer who don't even care

I can't run no more with that lawless crowd while the killers in high places say their prayers out loud. But they've summoned, they've summoned up a thundercloud and they're going to hear from me. Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything That's how the light gets in.

I looked into [Prozac]. I must say that it is certainly a wonder drug.

I try to make those references. I try to make sure that they're not too obscure. But outside of that, I dare not claim anything in the spiritual realm for my own.

I've always held the song in high regard because songs have got me through so many sinks of dishes and so many humiliating courting events.

It's hard to be serious about so many things. [Look at the whole emphasis] on the charts, if you're a songwriter.

Seven to eleven is a huge chunk of life, full of dulling and forgetting. It is fabled that we slowly lose the gift of speech with animals, that birds no longer visit our windowsills to converse. As our eyes grow accustomed to sight they armor themselves against wonder.