Gold don't come off. What's good stays good no matter how much of a beating it takes.

I mean, when the world comes for your children, with the knives out, it's your job to stand in the way.

We'll have freedom, love and health/When the grand red flag is flying, In the Workers' Commonwealth.

All the world is made of music. We are all strings on a lyre. We resonate. We sing together.

It bewildered Ig, the idea that a person could not be interested in music. It was like not being interested in happiness.

Longhaired preachers come out every night, Tryin' to tell us what's wrong and what's right. But when asked about something to eat, They will tell you in voices so sweet. You will eat (You will eat!) By and by, (By and by!) In that glorious land in the sky. (Way up high!) Work and pray, live on hay, You'll get pie in the sky when you die. (That's a lie!)

He understood that the ghost existed first and foremost within his own head. That maybe ghosts always haunted minds, not places. If he wanted to take a shot at it, he’d have to turn the barrel against his own temple.