I know there's a big bad world out there, but I rarely come across it.

The literati in their cellarsPerform semantic tarantellas.I wish I did it half as well as them.

Only two to three per cent of an audience is interested in words and pays attention to lyrics; most of the rest of it is about image or the beat or the sound, or else it's a tribal thing - country & western, rap, heavy metal, with historical folk rock off in some kind of cult.

She doesn't give you time for questions as she locks up your arms in hers. And you follow till your sense of direction completely disappears.

There's room in the world for one historical folk-rock singer to make a decent living, and I happen to be it.

Jimi Hendrix played loud and free, Sergeant Pepper was real to me.

On a morning from a Bogart movie, in a country where they turn back time. You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre, contemplating a crime. She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running like a watercolor in the rain. Don't bother asking for explanations, she'll just tell you that she came in the year of the cat.