With your silhouette when the sunlight dims Into your eyes where the moonlight swims, And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns, Who among them would try to impress you? -Bob Dylan, "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands” (1966)

Even I don't know what I'm saying most of the time.

I can't stand to see myself on television.

I met a young man who was wounded in love, I met another man who was wounded in hatred.

The truth was obscure, Too profound and too pure, To live it you had to explode

What good are fans? You can't eat applause for breakfast. You can't sleep with it.

The harmonica is the world's best-selling musical instrument. You're welcome.