I was in Nashville, Tennessee last year. After the show I went to a Waffle House. I'm not proud of it, I was hungry. And I'm alone, I'm eating and I'm reading a book, right? Waitress walks over to me: 'Hey, whatcha readin' for?' Isn't that the weirdest fuckin' question you've ever heard? Not what am I reading, but what am I reading FOR? Well, goddamnit, ya stumped me! Why do I read? Well . . . hmmm...I dunno...I guess I read for a lot of reasons and the main one is so I don't end up being a fuckin' waffle waitress.

They only want to be there while you’re on top, and when you haven’t gotten a gig in a while and you don’t know how you’re going to pay your rent at the end of the month and the glamor they thought they signed up for is gone, they’re walking out the door, leaving you to pick up the pieces.

All roads are tough, but you have to choose the one you know you'll never be sorry for taking.

And maybe her eyes still worked regardless of the shape she took, and she could see everything. And maybe somehow she broke through the atmosphere and was sent somewhere out in space where she couldn’t tell if her eyes were opened or closed.

Nashville has always been competitive. My granddaddy called it the Hillbilly Babylon.

The sexiest thing about a man is the way he can make a woman smile even when she thinks there is nothing to smile about.