My introduction to the Madonna Inn came as a young boy when we would take summer vacations to a nearby town. My dad would take us into their gift shop bathroom, which was a huge waterfall that functioned as the men's urinal. So as a kid, this was the most amazing thing I had ever seen.
The point is that when I see a sunset or a waterfall or something, for a split second it's so great, because for a little bit I'm out of my brain, and it's got nothing to do with me. I'm not trying to figure it out, you know what I mean? And I wonder if I can somehow find a way to maintain that mind stillness.
I don't want to die in a car accident. When I die it'll be a glorious day. It'll probably be a waterfall.
Many a calm river begins as a turbulent waterfall, yet none hurtles and foams all the way to the sea.
I like Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City. With the waterfall and things like that, I think it's pretty cool.
I love the sounds and the power of pounding water, whether it is the waves or a waterfall.
I have a lot of plants and fish and a pet lizard and Venus flytraps. I have a whole ecosystem in my room, like a running waterfall and different lights and sensors set on digital timers.
We were in Chagrin Falls, Ohio. It's a nice town, but it's aggressively quaint. They've got a popcorn shop above a waterfall and parades that come through town. It's all-American.
My brother Bill, who is a year older, is a climber, and when I was in the seventh grade, he taught me how to rappel off the frozen waterfall in our backyard.