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It's boring to be 70, I don't want to be there, I'll be dead and gone, I don't have any aspirations to be 70.
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I was never too keen on the British music press. They've called us a supermarket hype, and they used to suggest that we didn't write our own songs.
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Is Billy Idol just doing a bad Elvis pout, or was he born that way?
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I am not going to be a star. I am going to be a legend.
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I guess I've always lived the glamorous life of a star. It 's nothing new - I used to spend down to the last dime.
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I like people to go away from a Queen show feeling fully entertained, having had a good time.
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I think Queen songs are pure escapism, like going to see a good film.
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Interview? Oh don't be ridiculous.
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It destroys the soul to hear that you're all hype, that you have no talent, and that your whole career has been contrived.
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We're a bit flashy, but the music's not one big noise.
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Onstage, I am a devil. But I'm hardly a social reject.
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One night Roger was in a foul mood and he threw his entire bloody drumset across the stage. The thing only just missed me - I might have been killed.
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I never thought of myself as the leader. The most important person, perhaps.
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Oh, I was not made for heaven. No, I don't want to go to heaven. Hell is much better. Think of all the interesting people you're going to meet down there!
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In the early days, we just wore black onstage. Very bold, my dear. Then we introduced white, for variety, and it simply grew and grew.
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I'm very emotional; I think I may go mad in several years' time.
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If it's planned, it's boring.
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Get on your bikes and ride!
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It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, I feel good, and no one's gonna stop me now.
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When I'm dead, I want to be remembered as a musician of some worth and substance.
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Years ago, I thought up the name Queen. It's just a name. But it's regal, obviously, and -sounds splendid.
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If i had to do it all over again? Why not, I would do it a little bit differently.
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I never carry money, just like the real Queen. If I fancy something in a shop I always ask someone on our staff to buy it.
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Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality. Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see, I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low, Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me.