A song is like a dream, and you try to make it come true. They're like strange countries that you have to enter.

The rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame, preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first is uncertain.

If you want to know how to please a woman, just talk to a neuroscience major from Columbia.

The ghosts race towards the light, you can almost hear the heavy breathing spirits, all determined to get somewhere. New Orleans, unlike a lot of places you go back to and that don't have the magic anymore, still has got it. Night can swallow you up, yet none of it touches you. You can't see it, but you know it's here. Somebody's always sinking.

I forgot more than you'll ever know.

The inmates and prisoners, I found they were my kind, and it was there inside the bars I found my peace of mind.

They self-inflict punishment on their own broken lives, put their faith in their possessions, in their jobs, or their wives.