The time I burned my guitar it was like a sacrifice. You sacrifice the things you love. I love my guitar.

I wish they'd had electric guitars in cotton fields back in the good old days. A whole lot of things would've been straightened out.

In order to change the world, I guess a person would have to really get his head together first before he can say anything to the world, to change it.

Is this love, baby, or is this just confusion?

So you want to be married, oh baby, trying to put me on a chain, ain't that some shame? You must be losing your weak little mind.

I think it would count more, if we did less personal appearances.

This morning came on to me, silver wings silhouetted against the child's sunrise.