Please don't make me sound like a crazy hermit, but I don't like crowds or noise.

The noise was like, well, it was like a thousand vampire cats clawing on Plexiglas—it made their teeth hurt.

I understand I've made an unusual lifestyle choice. But the label 'crazy' bothers me. Annoys me. Because it prevents response. When someone asks if you're crazy, Knight lamented, you can either say yes, which makes you crazy, or you can say no, which makes you sound defensive, as if you fear that you really are crazy. There's no good answer.

You can't please everyone, and you can't make everyone like you.

Does sound have rhythm? Does it rise and fall like the ocean? Does sound come and go like wind?

I like to go into a little shell and be a hermit and make music for a while.