“About a week ago I was sitting in L.A.'s chicest nightclub with a few friends and the DJ was playing Yaz and Bowie and the videos were on and I was on my third gin and tonic and I realized that no matter where I am it's always the same. Camden, New York, L.A., Palm Springs - it really doesn't seem to matter. Maybe this should be disturbing but it's really not. I find it kind of comforting.”
“This was where i needed to be for the rest of my life and it didn't matter if it was in New York, L.A or Timbuktu. He was home to me and nothing was more important than being with him.”
“In the middle of L.A.'s sunny non-winter, I need to sit in a dark closet to feel right.”
“It doesn't really matter what chords I play, what words I say or time of day it is, as it's only a Northern Song.”
“The thing i call 'my mind' seems to be kind of like a landlord that doesn't really know its tenants.”
“In the end it does not really matter whether I am successful in a thousand and one things. In the end the only thing that matters is whether or not I save my soul. And it's up to me!”