Deprivation is the mother of poetry.

The duty of lovers is to tarnish the Golden Rule

I always felt I was scraping the bottom of the barrel trying to get a song together.

Your heart opens and of course you're completely panicked because you're used to guarding this organ with your life.

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking. Everybody knows the captain lied. Everybody got this broken feeling, like their father or their dog just died. Everybody talking to their pockets. Everybody wants a box of chocolates and a long-stem rose. Everybody knows.

I bargain now. I offer buttons for his love.

I don't have a television set up [in the mountains], of course, but I find I don't miss it at all, or the newspaper. I've sneaked a radio into by cabin, but I find I turn it on very rarely.