I lay my head on the railroad track, waitin' on the Double E. But the train don't run by here no more, poor, poor, pitiful me.

Speaking as one who has abused privilege a long time, I tell you, it's great to be alive.

I wrote my songs despite the fact that I was a drunk, not because of it.

I'd like to go back to Paris someday and visit the Lourve museum, get a good running start, and hurl myself at the wall.

Can't you just imagine digging up the King, begging him to sing about those heavenly mansions Jesus mentioned.

That's my only active wish. I think if I sang like Don Henley, this would be a lot more agreeable business.

But there's a thin line between songwriting and arranging.