Women like being kissed.

I can't do that wonderful thing that Tom Waits and Bob Dylan do - to do imagery. I'm not good at that. I just write from the heart.

I woke up in a barnyard when I heard a farmer shout. Get away, boy, from my daughter, then a shot gun rang out.

My love for you is immeasurable, my respect for you immense. You're ageless, timeless, lace and fineness, you're beauty and elegance.

I am somewhat on the shy side. I know people might find that hard to believe.

May you grow to be proud, dignified, and true, and do unto others as you'd have done to you.

Should I string her up or strangle her in bed, suffocate that venomous head? Or perhaps I'll just whip her to death. Listen, do me a favor, kill my wife.