The final story, the final chapter of Western man, I believe, lies in Los Angeles.

The only way to Cuba is with the CIA.

Beneath the greatest love lies a hurricane of hate.

The only possibility in the United States for a humane society would be a revolution with Elvis Presley as leader.

Call it peace or call it treason / call it love or call it reason / but I ain't marching anymore

Maybe we should raise our voices, ask somebody why. But demonstrations are a drag, besides we're much too high.

Does defending liberalism leave you friendless and perhaps wondering about your breath?