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

Ain't nothing too discreet about the disease of conceit.

In this age of fiberglass, I'm searching for a gem.

How many roads must a man walk down, Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail, Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, and how many times must the cannon balls fly, Before they're forever banned?

Why wait any longer for the one you love When he’s standing in front of you

You don't necessarily have to write to be a poet. Some people work in gas stations and they're poets. I don't call myself a poet, because I don't like the word. I'm a trapeze artist.

I can be jubilant one moment and pensive the next, and a cloud could go by and make that happen.