Go to work and be a Hollywood stud, drive your four wheel drive right into the mud.

There's a young man in a T-shirt listening to a rock and roll station. He's got greasy hair, greasy smile, he says, Lord this must be my destination.

For me or a Bruce Springsteen to sit up in our ivory towers and make comments about racism, well, were not really in it, are we?

I went to New York in 1974, to either try to get a record deal, get into the New York Art Student League, or be a dancer. So that was my plan. Some plan. And I had no money.

Hold on to 16 as long as you can.

The dust to which this flesh shall return, it is the ancient dreaming dust of God.

Dear Mr. President, can I ask you a question, when the bombs fall down will they hurt everyone in my family?