The dialogue between what's going on in the world and what's going on internally seems to be a natural thing - well, it's natural to me, anyway, to have these thoughts.

It's pointless to be critical of your stuff once it's done. I don't spend a lot of time agonising over it. It's of no importance once it's finished.

Was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. Not a negative word was heard.

The leaves that are green turn to brown. And they wither with the wind. And they crumble in your hand.

The thought that life could be better is woven indelibly into our hearts and our brains.

Then she kissed me and I realized she probably was right, there must be fifty ways to leave your lover.

I feel I should try to reveal. When you hit it right, you produce an emotional response in the listener that can be cathartic. When you're wrong, you're soppy, sentimental.