My Idea Of A Good Time Is

As The Plane Got Closer To Miami, I Had This Terrible Feeling He Was Dying. Maybe He Was Telling Me That He Was Going. I Felt Anger, Panic, Despair And Helplessness.

Music Became An Obsession, And Eventually We Felt More Comfortable With Each Other Then We Did With Anyone Else. The Three Of Us Were Like One Person.

An Artist Is An Artist Because He Is Not Happy With The World, So He Creates His Own Existence.

I Sometimes Wonder If The Tragedies My Family Has Suffered Are A Kind Of Karmic Price For All The Fame And Fortune The Bee Gees Have Had.

I'll Never Get Used To Living Without Mo, But The Painful Things That Surround What Happened To Him Aren't So Painful Any More - Not So Raw Or So New.