It was only when you left it alone that a tree might treat you as a friend. After the blade bit in, you had yourself a war.

I think it's silly for anyone to think you could write under the influence, but if they'd like to think that, I'd like to keep the legend alive. Maybe I was under the influence when I wrote Jesus' Son and I just didn't know it.

Will you believe me when I tell you there was kindness in his heart? His left hand didn't know what his right hand was doing. It was only that certain important connections had been burned through. If I opened up your head and ran a hot soldering iron around in your brain, I might turn you into someone like that.

Before this moment I'd lived as a mind. Body, heart, soul, intellect, so we care ourselves into parts. But the whole of us, what can it be?

Its always been my tendency to lie to doctors, as if good health consisted only of the ability to fool them.

I make the road. I draw the map. Nothing just happens to me...I'm the one happening.

After the film it was raining, a light steady rain. Ruthless neon on the wet streets like busted candy.