I'd sleep and forget it; I had my own life, my own sad and ragged life forever.

Eager for bread and love.

When the railroad trains moaned, and river-winds blew, bringing echoes through the vale, it was as if a wild hum of voices, the dear voices of everybody he had known, were crying: "Peter, Peter! Where are you going, Peter?" And a big soft gust of rain came down. He put up the collar of his jacket, and bowed his head, and hurried along.

It's okay, girl, we'll make it till the sun goes down forever. And until then what you got to lose but the losing? We're fallen angels who didn't believe that nothing means nothing.

The truth of the matter is, you die, all you do is die, and yet you live, yes you live, and that's no Harvard lie.

Holy flowers floating in the air, were all these tired faces in the dawn of Jazz America.

Ray, what you got to do is go climb a mountain.