I can't really change my life to accommodate people who are jealous. I don't see why I should.

Yoga introduced me to a style of meditation. The only meditation I would have done before would be in the writing of songs.

What might save us, me and you, is if the Russians love their children too.

If I were a Brazilian without land or money or the means to feed my children, I would be burning the rain forest too.

I find that the rhythm of going on long walks will suggest melodies.

I see music as one language. If one musical form eats its own tail, it dies. So it needs to be a mongrel, it needs to be hybridised.

How can I save my little boy from Oppenheimer's deadly toy?