Criticism didn't really stop us and it shouldn't ever stop anyone, because critics are only the people who can't get a record deal themselves.

It was bad on Linda. She had to deal with this guy who didn't want to get out of bed and, if he did, wanted to go back to bed pretty soon after. He wanted to drink earlier and earlier each day and didn't really see the point in shaving. I was generally pretty morbid.

No one is out to break your heart, it only seems that way.

John could write a mean song. He had a lot of venom in him. Whereas I had a happy childhood.

Paul's last words to Linda: "You're up on your beautiful Appaloosa stallion. It's a fine spring day. We're riding through the woods. The bluebells are all out, and the sky is clear-blue".

But with writers, there's nothing wrong with melancholy. It's an important color in writing.

Microphones are just like people, if you shout at them, they get scared.