Songs are life in 80 words or less.

Songwriting is different from music, although I don't deny now that it would be nice to have a little more background in music theory.

Chelsea Morning is a great Joni Mitchell song and I guess I'm partial to her lyrics because they show me a slightly different perspective on life.

When you're on a merry-go-round, you miss a lot of the scenery.

Brooklyn is not the easiest place to grow up in, although I wouldn't change that experience for anything.

Love is still a simple act of faith, and a faithful heart is always worth the wait.

The music is key. It has the power to transport you. I go from being a slightly insecure, shy kind of a person offstage, to this super-confident, motivated, entity onstage.

Performing is the easiest part of what I do, and songwriting is the hardest.

Then come and as we lay, beside this sleepy glade, there I will sing to you my Longfellow serenade.

Drop your shrink and stop your drinkin', crunchy granola's neat.

Don't need to say please to no man for a happy tune.

In India an explanation is often more confusing than what prompted it.

Ah hon, we all have our own demons to fight, guardians or not.

I love Indian, Italian and Mexican food. And if it's a romantic type of thing, I like a good French restaurant.

I'm not really often recognized - not really. Or if I am, nobody cares enough to come and tell me that they recognize me.

You know, I have had a terrible life. I married two men I really didn't like. My only daughter was killed in a car accident. My brother committed suicide. Has my life been a life for anyone to envy?

To visit Morocco is still like turning the pages of some illuminated Persian manuscript all embroidered with bright shapes and subtle lines.

Power is mass multiplied by cohesion.

You have brought the best things in my life. I used to be so unhappy before but now I am filled with joy and peace. Thank you for bringing so many good things into my life.

...and I wrote a book and that means I can do anything

And there I am, blushing and confused, made beautiful by Cinna’s hands, desirable by Peeta’s confession, tragic by circumstance, and by all accounts, unforgettable.