All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road.

His friends said, "Why do you have that ugly thing hanging there?" and Bull said, "I like it because it's ugly." All his life was in that line.

My shoes are clean from walking in the rain.

The only truth is music.

Rather, I think one should write, as nearly as possible, as if he were the first person on earth and was humbly and sincerly putting on paper that which he saw and experienced and loved and lost; what his passing thoughts were and his sorrows and desires.

Believe that the world is an ethereal flower, and ye live.

Let the mind beware, that though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.