I loathe that I did love, In youth that I thought sweet

As ye of clay were cast by kind, So shall ye waste to dust.

My lusts they do me leave, My fancies all be fled, And tract of time begins to weave Grey hairs upon my head.

For age with stealing steps Hath clawed me with his crutch

The wrinkles in my brow, The furrows in my face, Say, limping age will lodge him now Where youth must give him place.

My hand and pen are not in plight, As they have been of yore.

One day, may we all meet together in the light of understanding.

You can become even a co-creator of this universe... an assurance coming from the Ancient Wisdom

I believe in compulsory cannibalism. If people were forced to eat what they killed, there would be no more wars.

Dumb nerd, scratch everything you already done heard I could go platinum if my album wasn't more than one word.

If I did want to come back, I was going to make, what, $50 million? You know what; don't call my phone unless you've got $100 million.

Almost all paleontologists recognize that the discovery of a complete transition is in any case unlikely.

Let's put it this way: If a raccoon can carry a movie, then they believe maybe even a woman can.

It is the act of a madman to pursue impossibilities .

When I walk, I walk with God. He's always with me, He never leaves me and He will shine the light on me.

I want less and less control with music. Just playing music without any idea of composition or writing.