When you're sad and when you're lonely and you haven't got a friend, just remember that death is not the end.

They're selling postcards of the hanging They're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner They've got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker The other is in his pants And the riot squad they're restless They need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight From Desolation Row.

You'll find God in the church of your choice, you'll find Woody Guthrie in the Brooklyn State Hospital.

There's beauty in the silver singing river There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky But none of these and nothing else can match the beauty That I remember in my true love's eyes

The world of research has gone berserk. Too much paper work.

Every brain is civilized, Every nerve is analyzed, Everything is criticized when you are in need.

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