I went to the Democratic Convention as a journalist, and returned a cold-blooded revolutionary.

Most of my friends are into strange things I don't really understand - and with a few shameful exceptions I wish them all well. Who am I, after all, to tell some friend he shouldn't change his name to Oliver High, get rid of his family, and join a Satanism cult in Seattle? Or to argue with another friend who wants to buy a single-shot Remington Fireball so he can go out and shoot cops from a safe distance?

The mind & body must be subjected to extreme stimulus, by means of drugs & music.

Morality is temporary, wisdom is permanent.

Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That is why God made fast motorcycles, Bubba.

Never mind the track. The track is for punks. We are Road People. We are Cafe Racers.

Cover a war in a place where you can't drink beer or talk to a woman? Hell no!