There was no way I was ever going to get a fair shake. How good could I be? I was Canadian. I wasn't from New York. I wasn't from Vegas. I was born in 1975, not 1917. My last name wasn't Sinatra or Darin or Martin. Early on and often, there was always the comparison. "He's good, but he's no '[fill in the] blank.'

When I say something funny in a newspaper and I meant it to be funny, it doesn't read that way.

Who I am is a dad and a family guy. When I look in the mirror and talk to myself, that's what I want to reflect.

Someone asked me the other day, 'Do you get upset when people say you are the young Frank Sinatra?' It doesn't upset me. It is a huge compliment, but it is false.

It's a beautiful day, and I can't stop myself from smiling!

I think I'm a mama's boy who wanted to be a hockey player, who failed, and had to become a singer. I think that I'm a generous, impatient, kind, jerk.

I met the [Frank] Sinatra family for a [performance] I did for his hundredth birthday and one of the first things Sinatra's daughters said to me was, "I'm so glad you make your own beautiful arrangements now."