Always predict the worst, and you'll be hailed as a prophet.

My last public performance for money was in 1967. For free, it was 1972, with the exception of two little one-shot, one-song things. But that's just for friends, out of friendship for the people involved, and also because it was fun.

Alas, irreverence has been subsumed by mere grossness, at least in the so-called mass media. What we have now - to quote myself at my most pretentious - is a nimiety of scurrility with a concomitant exiguity of taste.

If, after hearing my songs, just one human being is inspired to say something nasty to a friend, or perhaps to strike a loved one, it will all have been worth the while.

You can raise welts like nobody else, as we dance to the Masochism Tango.

There's ten stuffed heads in my trophy room right now, two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow.

I feel that if a person has problems communicating the very least he can do is to shut up.