Sorrow and solitude, these are the precious things/ And the only words that are worth remembering.

There's only two kinds of music: the blues and zippety doo-dah.

All of a sudden there's a song - there in your hotel room playing your guitar - and you write it, and two or three years later it will come true. It keeps you on your toes.

I don't know why I write really depressing songs. I'm a kind of melancholy guy, I suppose. But I figure I'm about normal.

I've met Bob Dylan's bodyguards, and if Steve Earle thinks he can stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table, he's sadly mistaken.

Now the dark air is like fire on my skin, And even the moonlight is blinding

Im the mold that grunge was grown in.