My love of maple syrup. I've been known to knock back a can over a couple days: A swig here, a swig there, and next thing you know it's gone. It's a habit I have to stave off. I don't want to lose all my teeth.

I find so many songwriters today are missing an element ... either the production is amazing but the songs aren't, or it's the other way around.

Once illness strikes, you realize there's not a lot of time for you to do what you really need to do. And there's no time like the present.

Life is the longest death in California.

It's about how whenever I fall in love, I have these expectations of the experience being a perfect dream, which, of course, ruins it. I imagine cradling my lover's head in my lap in a cab in the middle of the night, and drinking champagne in an elegant hotel suite. But life's rarely like that, and I usually end up walking home by myself in the rain.

After years of hotels, I'm horribly inept at cleaning up after myself.

The Germany I was enthused with was more old fashioned and kind of romantic. I just got there, and the next thing you know, I had this huge gilded album. It was kind of an amazing experience because I didn't intend it to be that way.