Well, I always say, it’s a journey from innocence to experience. It’s not really about California; it’s about America,” Henley said. “It’s about the dark underbelly of the American dream. It’s about excess, it’s about narcissism. It’s about the music business. It’s about a lot of different…. It can have a million interpretations.

People don't run out of dreams - people just run out of time.

People don't care how you feel. You need to paint pictures; you need to tell stories. That's what people want. They want to be entertained. Then all of the other stuff kind of filters across as part of the whole thing.

My songs grow on people - like warts.

It gets emotional at the end when I do Desperado, because that’s the first song that Glenn and I wrote together. So, every night I dedicate it to him. And the crowd gets emotional, and that’s part of the healing process — for them as well as for me. I think they expect it. I won’t sing any of his songs, though. I don’t think that would be quite right, even if I co-wrote them. I’m just not doing it.

I've read somewhere that when you're writing, you should stop while you're doing well so you always want to go back to work.

He was like a brother to me; we were family, and like most families, there was some dysfunction. But the bond we forged 45 years ago was never broken, even during the 14 years that the Eagles were dissolved. We were two young men who made the pilgrimage to Los Angeles with the same dream: to make our mark in the music industry — and with perseverance, a deep love of music, our alliance with other great musicians and our manager, Irving Azoff, we built something that has lasted longer than anyone could have dreamed. But Glenn was the one who started it all. He was the spark plug, the man with the plan. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of popular music and a work ethic that wouldn’t quit. He was funny, bullheaded, mercurial, generous, deeply talented and driven. He loved his wife and kids more than anything. We are all in a state of shock, disbelief and profound sorrow. We brought our two-year History of The Eagles Tour to a triumphant close at the end of July and now he is gone. I’m not sure I believe in fate, but I know that crossing paths with Glenn Lewis Frey in 1970 changed my life forever, and it eventually had an impact on the lives of millions of other people all over the planet. It will be very strange going forward in a world without him in it. But I will be grateful, every day, that he was in my life. Rest in peace, my brother. You did what you set out to do, and then some.

He was a very dynamic individual. He came up like I did, playing in rock and roll bands starting in high school,” Henley said. “We understood each other. We both loved cars. He had an old ‘55 Chevy named Gladys that we used to ride around in. And we were just – we were a good fit, you know. I had strengths that made up for his weaknesses, and he had strengths that made up for my weaknesses.

Glenn was the one who started it all…he was the spark plug; the man with the plan.

Glenn and I were the odd couple. I was sort of the housekeeper, the tidy one. He was the lovable slob.