So thirsty," Jack groaned. "So worried,"said the frog. I hope we don't starve to death." "Yes,"said Jill, "not starving to death would be nice." "So would not thirsting to death," said Jack "Thirsting isn't even a word," said Jill "It isn't?" "No." "Then what's the word?" "I dont know. You just can't." "Oh." This is, of course, the kind of inane conversation that occurs when people are slowly losing their minds.
The weird thing about having your birthday on a school day is that by the time you get to be ten, or eleven for sure, no one at school knows it's your birthday anymore. It's not like when you're little and your mom brings cupcakes for the whole class. But even though no one knows, you walk around like it's supposed to be a national holiday. You walk around thinking that people are supposed to be nice to you, like maybe on your birthday you're ten times more breakable than on any other day. Well, it doesn't work that way. It just doesn't.
The idea that no gentleman ever swears is all wrong. He can swear and still be a gentleman if he does it in a nice and benevolent and affectionate way.
I feel like we're always on the edge of someone standing up and saying, "Hey, the emperor's naked." I'm expecting that any second. But we're pretty lucky that way. The longer you do this, the more treacherous it can be, and the more pitfalls and sort of bad diversions you can find to paint yourself into a corner. But with every record, we try to change the situation, yet still keep it comfortable, and we're lucky to work with people who are inspiring to us who'll give us that extra push. It's nice to make records that are appreciated.
Usually I'm the one who does the covers. And I just said, man, it would be nice to see what somebody else could do, outside of this thing. A fresher look. And I never, in a million years, would have come up with this. Believe me!
Sure, I like to win when I play basketball or board games or video games, but my day isnt ruined if I lose. Im always up for a rematch. In all seriousness, thats something thats nice about maturing.
Of course the Man was wild too. He was dreadfully wild. He didn't even begin to be tame till he met the Woman, and she told him that she did not like living in his wild ways. She picked out a nice dry Cave, instead of a heap of wet leaves, to lie down in; and she strewed clean sand on the floor; and she lit a nice fire of wood at the back of the Cave; and she hung a dried wild-horse skin, tail down, across the opening of the Cave; and she said, 'Wipe your feet, dear, when you come in, and now we'll keep house.