She took off her wheel, took off her bell, took off her wig, said, how do I smell? I hot footed it barenaked out the window.

When it came time to hire a guitar player ... I didn't even have to think about it ... Mike Bloomfield was the best guitar player I'd ever heard.

I think a poet is anybody who wouldn't call himself a poet.

I see through your brain like I see through the water that runs down the drain.

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

Ah, current music. What would that be? Ah, really, a lot of it sounds defective to me. It makes me restless.

The people in my songs are all me.