[Bob Dylan] was rarely tender and seldom reached out to anticipate another's needs.

All the money you made will never buy back your soul.

Crimson flames tied through my ears rolling high and mighty traps, pounced with fire on flaming roads using ideas as my maps.

Bob Dylan was again an entirely new person - this time old, craggy, cynical, and world-weary, as in "Not Dark Yet".

Satan will give you a little taste, then he'll move in with rapid speed.

I just wanted a song to sing, and there came a point where I couldn't sing anything...nobo dy else was writing what I wanted to sing. I couldn't find it anywhere. If I could I probably would never have started writing.

I've been up the mountain and I had a choice. Should I come down? So I came down. God said, Okay, you've been up on the mountain, now you go down. You're on your own, free. Check in later, but now you're on your own.