You can listen to music at any moment in the day or night. Which is great, but I think it kind of devalues it as well.

If you gave me a fresh carnation, I would only crush its tender petals.

Being a musician is a noble profession.

Everyone gets frustrated and aggressive, and I'd sooner take my aggression out on a guitar than on a person.

I'm still a mod, I'll always be a mod, you can bury me a mod.

No man should have cowboys boots in his wardrobe. That's fair enough, isn't it? Unless you're a cowboy, of course.

I want to hear as much music as I possibly can before I leave this mortal coil but it's impossible to hear it all because there's so much of it.

Sometimes you're ahead of the game and sometimes people don't get it and that's just one of those things you have to accept and carry on.

I think politicians are so far out of step with what people really want.

I still love playing music. It was all I ever wanted to do, and I got the chance to do it.

I think anybody goes through a crisis of confidence from time to time. You have to kind of doubt yourself, sometimes. It's the way forward.

You are an artist

Every thought creates a plan, every decision creates a way forward, every action brings forth tangible assets. Everything starts from the mind my friend.

Liberty is meaningless where the right to utter one's thoughts and opinions has ceased to exist. That, of all rights, is the dread of tyrants. It is the right which they first of all strike down.

But I don't think we'll go there until we go back to the moon and develop a technology base for living and working and transporting ourselves through space.

Darling -- I suppose the world would consider us absolutely crazy, but it is wonderful to feel that way, isn't it? Sort of a perpetual springtime in our hearts.

Action should be founded on contemplation, and those of us who act don't put enough time, don't give enough emphasis, to contemplation.

I remember being in high school and listening to Vivaldi's 'Winter' and being so overwhelmed with emotion.

Work? It’s just serious play.

I must have a drink of breakfast.

Call it not vain: they do not err Who say that when the poet dies Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies.