“Sometime in October, one of his friends walked by and called him 'Chris.' (A name, at last. 'Say it loud and there's music playing. Say it soft and it's almost like praying.')”

“He is remembering," I say."Remembering what?""It's a word I use for praying. Sometimes it's like waiting for music to come out of the silence.”

“They met at Woodstock, and their love lasted a lifetime. Heartbroken but determined he calls on his two best friends to help him return to where it all began. One last roadtrip. One last chance to say Good-bye, Emily”

“It's the way he says my name: like music.”

“The best musicians know this music isn't about "schools" at all. Like my father says, "There's only one school, the school of 'Can you play?”

“That's what I like to call him, "the current president." I find it difficult to say or type his name, George W. Bush. I like to call him "the current president" because it's a hopeful phrase, implying that his administration is only temporary.”