Therapy was the biggest romance of my life.

You always have to wrestle with chaos.

You'll almost encounter a superstition amongst musicians, people sort of go through strange rituals, what they need to do to write a song.

I watch people throw aluminum cans in the trash, and I think of all the stories I've heard about the over-mining of aluminum, the erosion that happens, and the trees that fall down.

The very best thing for music would be to live next door to a person who listens to loud music so you could mishear music everyday and mutate it to your own means.

In the laughing times we know that we are lucky, and in the quiet times we know that we are blessed. And we will not be alone.

Sometimes life gives us lessons sent in ridiculous packaging.

Sometimes I see myself fine, sometimes I need a witness. And I like the whole truth, but there are nights I only need forgiveness.

Writing 'February' made me realize that breaking form is a way of letting the song be human.

And where does magic come from? I think that magic's in the learning.

A song versus an album is not like a scene versus a play.

Arizona is really cool but I couldn't stay there for too long.

Being told that you are good at banter is like being told that you are a good person.

But I benefit from the taxes I pay because I know how to access the benefits of the taxes.

But if you're looking to be spooked by really tall trees then you've got to go to Washington State.

But social justice and the environment are very tied together in my head.

Everyone has to decide how they're going to appear in their lives, how they're going to put themselves out there to the world.

How I long to fall just a little bit, to dance out of the lines and stray from the light.

I have a sordid past.

I really value people besides parents who nurture kids.