If I could just walk around and light the candles with my finger, that would be kind of cool.
The paradox of Reality is that no image is as compelling as the one which exists only in the mind's eye.
Hair brings one’s self-image into focus; it is vanity’s proving ground. Hair is terribly personal, a tangle of mysterious prejudices
The sad truth is that excellence makes people nervous.
Between the two poles of whole-truth and half-truth is slung the chancy hammock in which we all rock.
In a nation of celebrity worshipers, amid followers of the cult of personality, individual modesty becomes a heroic quality. I find heroism in the acceptance of anonymity, in the studied resistance to the normal American tropism toward the limelight.
The mark of a true crush. . . is that you fall in love first and grope for reasons afterward.
My childhood was pretty ordinary, except from a very early age, I wanted to be scared. I just did. I was scared afterwards. I wanted a light on, because I was afraid that there was something in the closet. My imagination was very active, even at a young age.
Who are a little wise the best fools be.
The effort to untangle the human words from the divine seems not only futile to me but also unnecessary, since God works with what is. God uses whatever is usable in a life, both to speak and to act, and those who insist on fireworks in the sky may miss the electricity that sparks the human heart.
I think our music is more about seeing ourselves in each other and trying to find a more humanistic viewpoint for the world.