The BBC, during its 24 hours on the air, plays a very wide range of stuff. And it's not commercial.

A certain death of an artist is overconfidence.

The first real thing I heard was Three O'Clock Blues by B.B. King. That's where it all began for me.

I can't say I feel influenced by today's guitar players.

I didn't want to get attached to one guitar; I didn't want to have an instrument that was irreplaceable.

It all comes down to the density of the wood. Every guitar's different.

I go through about two Fender mediums a night because I don't pick straight down; it's sort of sideways, and it shaves them off.

I don't tend to have a favorite album; I tend to have favorite tracks. There are flaws in every album that spoil it for me.

I got a guitar when I was about 14, for a Christmas present, and went from there.

It's impossible to play a run with as much feeling as a single note. I've never been so much into runs as making single notes cry.

When you start believing you're something special, then you're not going to be striving to move forward.

If, of all words of tongue and pen, The saddest are, 'It might have been, 'More sad are these we daily see:'It is, but hadn't ought to be.

Each day provides its own gifts.

We need fathers to step up, to realize that their job does not end at conception; that what makes you a man is not the ability to have a child but the courage to raise one.

Of all the charges made against the Communists these days of congressional investigations, the charge of loose morals is seldom heard, so very loose have become those of "Christian" people.

Riches with their wicked inducements increase; nevertheless, avarice is never satisfied.

Comedy always works best when it is mean-spirited.

For politics is in its essence as Adams had said, the 'systematic organization of hatred': either you were organized or you were not.

Xs were used because there was no mass literacy - a state we are rapidly approaching once more.

Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance.

I tore the dreams from my head and tossed them in the flames. And the smoke smelled like my past, and it stung my eyes but I was too stubborn to blink.