I relate with military families and Gold Star families. Gold Star families are families where somebody didn't come home. My father died in 1949. He was a flight instructor in the Army Air Corp.

I have some fond memories - a couple of the nights on the town ... a couple of songs I wrote when I was messed up that I'm sure wouldn't have come out of me unless I was messed up. It's kind of happy-sad about those days - I could do anything I wanted to. I did. And now I don't want to do any of that.

I enjoy my solo career because I get to play smaller places like clubs and theaters, and the interaction with the audience is much higher quality. It also sounds better than a baseball stadium. Everybody has a good seat, and I don't have to play a specific part like I do in the Eagles.

L.A. is kind of flat these days; I guess Austin and other places are like that now. But that's what I wanted to get across: You could be as crazy as you wanted, and that was OK. You didn't have to be good; people would still come and hear you.

Sometimes, and I hate to say it, you do feel things are asked for in the most ludicrously unrealistic fashion. The time you are expected to make things in, and the money you are expected to make them for - that is the death of creativity. Just because some things can be made very cheaply does not mean everything can be.

The power of imagination is infinite.

The great thing about theater is that you have so much time to prepare, and to fail, before presenting it to the public. In film, the high-wire act seems to be that much farther up, and the net seems to be less there.

The imagination is such as powerful tool: suggestion is all you need. People fill in gaps.