To the birds you gave songs, the birds gave you songs in return. You gave me only a voice, yet asked for more, thus I sing.

I have spent many days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.

At certain times I read a lot of poetry. My favorite poets are Shelley and Keats. Rimbaud is so identifiable. Lord Byron. I don't know. Lately if I read poems, it's like I can always hear the guitar. Even with Shakespeare's sonnets I can hear a melody because it's all broken up into timed phrases so I hear it. I always keep thinking, 'What kind of song would this be?'

Anything I can sing, I call a song. Anything I can't sing, I call a poem.

The love of glory is like the bridge that Satan built across Chaos to pass from Hell to Paradise: glory links the past with the future across a bottomless abyss. Nothing to my son, except my name!

And of course there must be something wrongIn wanting to silence any song.