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“[T]here is this kind of chemistry that’s created through endless television or music programming or advertising that drones away on these things [violence, bigotry, cynicism] — with crap music, with murder movies […]. And so it’s like my son Dhani was saying, that ‘Who gives a shit about bombing Bosnia!’ becomes the attitude on a campus, because they’re all so desensitized. […] Maybe in another few hundred years people will be living in sewers with rats crawling all over them, and they’ll be thinking, ‘This is great, life is good.’ Mahatma Gandhi said, ‘Create and preserve the image of your choice,’ and the image we seem to have chosen is one of greed and butchery.” - George Harrison, Billboard (June 1999) “We felt obviously that Vietnam was wrong — I think any war is wrong, for that matter — and in some of our lyrics we expressed those feelings and tried to be the counter-culture, to try and wake up as many people as we could to the fact that you don’t have to fight. You can call a halt to war and you can have a laugh and dress up silly and that’s what that period was all about: get your hair long, and grow a mustache, and paint your house psychedelic, and write songs. It was all part of our retaliation against the evil that was taking place and still is taking place.” - George Harrison, It Was Twenty Years Ago Today (1987)

“Our son, Dhani, and I, like George’s friends, were spoiled by his rich and loving presence: from the morning wake-up call, which could have been (depending on our location and mood) a morning raga, a Vedic chant, a Mozart concerto, Cab Calloway’s ‘Bugle Call Rag,‘ or Hoagy’s earliest instrumental version of ‘Stardust,‘ to the day’s final tune, maybe whistled on his way to bed and which I would wake up in the morning singing. He loved planting the seed of a song and would sometimes whistle a tune I disliked just to see if he could get it rolling around in my head. After I would complain about it, he’d say, ‘Okay, here’s one to replace it.‘ and whistle another. All senses were satisfied as incense blew in the morning breeze, mingling with the steam from hot cups of tea. If he stepped out of the door for a breath of morning air, he always returned with a flower or leaf that would have gone unnoticed by everyone else, in the same way many among us would have gone unnoticed were it not for his ability to ‘see‘ the true person inside the bodily form. He always went straight to the heart of a person, and that ability extended to any subject or matter or work before him. His ability to penetrate to the core gave him, as he put it, ‘a different slant, a different pattern,‘ than anyone I ever knew.” - Olivia Harrison, foreword to Harrison (2002)