More than anything that's been the thread through my life - the desire to write, the impulse to write. I mean, it's taken me other places, but it was the impulse to write that led me to singing.

Good press, bad press, whatever, only means a lot to me if it's writ by somebody I respect, by somebody I like.

Life is an adventure of our own design intersected by fate and a series of lucky and unlucky accidents.

Deep in my heart how the presence of you shines, in a light to last a whole life through.

Obviously, I'm not homeless. I'm not an old alcoholic. I'm not jumping trains. I just like to live in a certain way.

Much has been said about Robert, and more will be added. Young men will adopt his gait. Young girls will wear white dresses and mourn his curls. He will be condemned and adored. His excesses damned or romanticized. In the end, truth will be found in his work, the corporeal body of the artist. It will not fall away. Man cannot judge it. For art sings of God, and ultimately belongs to him.

Grief isn't all tears.