Psychologically, it's better that I think that I'm dirt.

I'd harbored hopes that the intelligence that once inhabited novels or films would ingest rock. I was, perhaps, wrong.

I shot a vein in my neck and coughed up a quaalude.

I am very emotionally affected by sound. Sounds are the inexplicable... There is a sound you hear in your head, it's your nerves, or your blood running.

I think life is far too short to concentrate on your past. I rather look into the future.

What I really love is my scotch. It's the power, the power of positive drinking.

Rock & roll is so great, people should start dying for it. You don't understand. The music gave you back your beat so you could dream...The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not for music? Die for it. Isn't it pretty? Wouldn't you die for something pretty?