The first thing I know, I'm in a card game. Then I'm in a crap game.

Just a reminder, if you tell anyone about what happened with Jonah last night, I'll destroy all of my writing and never play music again.

You don't write a song to sit there on a page. You write it to sing it.

How many a year has passed and gone and many gamble has been lost and won, and many a road taken by a friend and each one I've never seen again.

Ring the bells for the blind and deaf.

I see the turning of the page, curtain rising on a new age, see the groom still waiting at the altar.

Shakespeare, he's in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells, speaking to some French girl who says she knows me well.