Once you're dead, you're made for life.

Oh say, can you see, it's really such a mess. Every inch of earth is a fighting nest. Giant pencial and lipstick tube shaped things, continue to rain and cause scream and pain, and the arctic stains from silver blue to bloody red.

As you well know, you just can't believe everything you see and hear, can you?

The story of love is hello and goodbye... until we meet again.

I love Dylan. I only met him once, about three years ago, back at the Kettle of Fish on MacDougal Street. That was before I went to England. I think both of us were pretty drunk at the time, so he probably doesn’t remember it.

I want to play music that draws a picture of the world and its space.

This is your life - you must die by yourself, so for heaven's sake, live for yourself and no one else. . . .