Just A Thank You Is A Mighty

When I Was Eleven I Stopped Dreaming The Dreams That Didn't Come True, I Stopped Talking To People Who Didn't Listen, I Lost Hope And I Retreated. I Assumed That The Root Of The Problem Was That I Was Too Strange For The Real World. That Being The Case, I Created A Charming And Dynamic Personality To Make The Necessary Forays Into The Outside, And I Kept My Strangeness For Myself; My Own Peculiar Jewels Under Lock And Key.

Loss Is The Great Unifier, The Terrible Club To Which We All Eventually Belong.

The Ephemeral Nature Of Live Performance Is The Part I Love Most - It's A Monk's Sand Painting, Carefully Constructed, Then Wiped Away In An Instant.

I Am So Sick Of Reading About Another Car Bomb, Another Suicide Bomber, Another 10, 20, 30, 70, 100 People Dead In A Day, Both Americans And Iraqis.

Think About All Of The Families Where The Father Is A Doctor And The Son Is A Doctor Or Generations Of Coal Miners. Why Did They Go Into That Line Of Work? Because That's What They Were Taught. Or Was It In Their Genes? It's Not An Either/or Question. It's Both. I Was Inclined In That Way. I Was Sensitive To Music And Poetry, And It Was Around Me Growing Up.