Night can swallow you up, yet none of it touches you. Around any corner, there's a promise of something daring and ideal and things are just getting going. There's something obscenely joyful behind every door, either that or somebody crying with their head in in their hands. A lazy rhythm looms in the dreamy air and the atmosphere pulsates with bygone duels, past-life romance, comrades requesting comrades to aid them in some way. You can't see it, but you know it's there

In writing songs, I've learned as much from Cezanne as I have from Woody Guthrie.

The future for me is already a thing of the past - You were my first love and you will be my last

I've never been able to understand the seriousness of it all, the seriousness of pride. People talk, act, live as if they're never going to die. And what do they leave behind? Nothing. Nothing but a mask.

I'm not going to read any of these magazines. I mean, because they've just got too much to lose by printing the truth. You know that.

Chaos is a friend of mine.

I've never written a political song. Songs can't save the world. I've gone through all that.