In Western-style Communism we would have to create an almost imaginary workers' image of themselves as the father-figure.

It made me high. It really did.

You can manicure a cat but can you caticure a man?

I can't play guitar, but I can sure make it howl.

I didn't really know that much about the Maoists, but I just knew that they seemed to be so few and yet they painted themselves green and stood in front of the police waiting to get picked off.

Imagine no possessions; I wonder if you can.

In Baby You're A Rich Man the point was, stop moaning, you're a rich man and we're all rich, heh heh, baby!