My comfortable existence is reduced to a shallow meaningless party.
Mr. Breschnev says we will bury you, I don't subscribe to that point of view. It seems like such an ignorant thing to do, if the Russians love their children, too.
I realize that nothing's as it seems.
I went off to fight some battle that I'd invented inside me.
I can't really change my life to accommodate people who are jealous. I don't see why I should.
Money's only important when you don't have any.