It's not important what other people call you. If you yourself know you're a fake, that's tougher to live with.

All these people that I used to know, they're an illusion to me now. Some are mathematicians, some are carpenters' wives.

You can't be wise and in love at the same time.

How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind.

All I can do is be me, whoever that is.

I'm good with songs I haven't written, if I like them. I'm glad I didn't write any of them. I already know how they go, so I have more freedom with them. I understand these songs. I've known them for 40 years, 50 years, maybe longer, and they make a lot of sense. So I'm not coming to them like a stranger.

I am hanging in the balance of a perfect finished plan, like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.