I am aware that a computer can’t create a poem, but neither can a typewriter.

I hid in bars, because I didn't want to hide in factories.

like the fox I run with the hunted and if I’m not the happiest man on earth I’m surely the luckiest man alive.

Are you becoming what you've always hated?

My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people.

I am for the small man who has not forgotten, for the man who loves his beer and his women and his sunlight

It was like a church in there as only the truly lost sit in bars on Tuesday mornings at 8:00 a.m.