Whatever that ["transfiguration" by Bob Dylan] means, it's true that the poetic brilliance of the early career would never really reappear.

How many roads must a man walk down, Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail, Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly, Before they're forever banned?

They say that patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings steal a little and they throw you in jail. Steal a lot and then they make you king.

Remember when you're out there trying to heal the sick, that you must always first forgive them.

You've got to lose your passion for dumbness.

I think I have a dualistic nature.

Let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late.