It was quite a shot in the head to do the album and then have it shot down by nonmusical idiots.
I wish I was a little more gregarious and outgoing.
Coming out of college with a degree in fine arts and painting isn’t worth much any more.
I always try to give my songs as gifts.
I had gone full-on folkie; I’d had it with bands.
I love home. I’ll stay up there for days on end, I won’t even go down the driveway to look for the mail.
I may quit the music business someday, but never the music.
I wanted to pay tribute to my musical influences: Buffalo Springfield, Lightfoot, the Beatles, the Hollies.
I love the subtlety and tonal range of the acoustic guitar.
MTV didn’t call. I guess I wasn’t hip and groovy enough.
I was blessed with a gift. It’s a gift and a curse. It never ends.
He earned his love through discipline, a thundering velvet hand, his gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand.
Love like a phantoms lights but hold in the heart, it builds like the empty smile adorning a statue with sightless eyes.
My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man, I’m just a living legacy to the leader of the band.
Balance the cost of the soul you lost with the dreams you lightly sold.
Down the ancient corridors through the gates of time, run the ghosts of dreams that we have left behind.
Trust isn’t something that’s spoken and love’s never wrong when it’s real.
Waiting for wisdom to open the cage, we forged in the fires of the innocent age.
Strats are my favorite electric guitars, and I’ve got quite a collection.
It was so much fun playing simple American bluegrass. I got to meet Doc Watson.