My dad's a beautiful man but like a lot of Mexican men or men in general a lot of men have a problem with the balance of masculinity and femininity - intuition and compassion and tenderness - and get overboard with the macho thing. It took him a while to become more I would say conscious evolved.

My dad was a bartender. My mom was a cashier a maid and a stock clerk at K-Mart. They never made it big. They were never rich. And yet they were successful. Because just a few decades removed from hopelessness they made possible for us all the things that had been impossible for them.

My parents were working class folks. My dad was a bartender for most of his life my mom was a maid and a cashier and a stock clerk at WalMart. We were not people of financial means in terms of significant financial means. I always told them 'I didn't always have what I wanted. I always had what I needed.' My parents always provided that.

There are pretenders to piety as well as to courage.

I could finally quit my job as a bartender and stop dreaming that I might be Superman and know that I was. Then I started thinking about how cool it was.

I don't run a car have never run a car. I could say that this is because I have this extremely tender environmentalist conscience but the fact is I hate driving.

Set up another case bartender! The best thing for a case of nerves is a case of Scotch.

Beauty sweet love is like the morning dew Whose short refresh upon tender green Cheers for a time but till the sun doth show And straight is gone as it had never been.

She gave up beauty in her tender youth gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways she covered up her eyes lest they should gaze on vanity and chose the bitter truth.

There must be something solemn serious and tender about any attitude which we denominate religious. If glad it must not grin or snicker if sad it must not scream or curse.

If only life could be a little more tender and art a little more robust.

For me music is a vehicle to bring our pain to the surface getting it back to that humble and tender spot where with luck it can lose its anger and become compassion again.

Bid then the tender light of faith to shine By which alone the mortal heart is led Unto the thinking of the thought divine.