If you wanted to, it would be easy to find some crappy lyrics [of Bob Dylan] from the Eighties to undermine the Nobel Prize.

Yes, and only if my own true love was waiting If I could hear his heart softly pounding Yes, and only if he was lying by me Would I lie in my bed once again.

Life is more or less a lie, but then again, that's exactly the way we want it to be.

I'm not the kind of cat that's going to cut off an ear if I can't do something.

Peace will come With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall.

The confessional singer-songwriter movement of the 1970s was in full swing, and Bob Dylan's emotional album [ Blood on the Tracks] resonated with the times. There would be other hits, but never the same alchemy of emotion and time.

Walkin' through the leaves fallin' from the trees, Feelin' like a stranger nobody sees.