Don't put my faith in nobody, not even a scientist.

I like Fidel Castro and his beard.

Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin' For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'.

I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans.

My guard stood hard when abstract threats, too noble to neglect, deceived me into thinking, I had something to protect.

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.

Money doesn't talk, it swears.