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I believe that the truest parts of people can be buried, and for many different reasons.

The greatest talents often lie buried out of sight.

So all the rest is O.K., but fame is a hollow ground, isn't it? It's an empty kind of thing.

Rock is periodically pronounced dead by clear rock critics - killed by world music, or by hip-hop, or electronica, or the Backstreet Boys. But if you wait a year, it comes back to life.

I mean there's certainly a lot of progressive rock and metal that exists at the underground level, which has its own vitality, as it should. But it seems to have lost its ability to really charge up the hill.

Of present fame think little, and of future less; the praises that we receive after we are buried, like the flowers that are strewed over our grave, may be gratifying to the living, but they are nothing to the dead.

Hard rock may have faded from the media for a time, but I've always been able to make a living, if not in America, then in the rest of the world.

Who tracks the steps of glory to the grave?

There's always people saying that rock is dead, rock is over. People are always out to kill rock and roll.

Every coal miner I talked to had, in his history, at least one story of a cave-in. 'Yeah, he got covered up,' is a way coal miners refer to fathers and brothers and sons who got buried alive.