Well, you know, like, I don`t really give a f**k what the general public think.

We had a death pact, and I have to keep my half of the bargain. Please bury me next to my baby in my leather jacket, jeans and motorcycle boots. Goodbye.

I'm not chic, I could never be chic.

The band broke up because I couldn't bear Rotten anymore because he was an embarrassment with his silly hats and his, like, shabby, dirty, nasty looking appearance.

I got this feeling I'm gonna die before I get old. I don't know why. I just have this feeling.

You're only half the man that I am, and I have half the brain that you do.

I was the only guy with any bit of anarchy left.