Bob Dylan

She's got everything she needs; she's an artist, she don't look back.

reality has too many heads

I was always fishing for something on the radio. Just like trains and bells, it was part of the soundtrack of my life. I moved the dial up and down and Roy Orbison's voice came blasting out of the small speakers. His new song, "Running Scared," exploded into the room.Orbison, though, transcended all the genres - folk, country, rock and roll or just about anything. His stuff mixed all the styles and some that hadn't even been invented yet. He could sound mean and nasty on one line and then sing in a falsetto voice like Frankie Valli in the next. With Roy, you didn't know if you were listening to mariachi or opera. He kept you on your toes. With him, it was all about fat and blood. He sounded like he was singing from an Olympian mountaintop and he meant business. One of his previous songs, "Ooby Dooby" was deceptively simple, but Roy had progressed. He was now singing his compositions in three or four octaves that made you want to drive your car over a cliff. He sang like a professional criminal. Typically, he'd start out in some low, barely audible range, stay there a while and then astonishingly slip into histrionics. His voice could jar a corpse, always leave you muttring to yourself something like, "Man, I don't believe it." His songs had songs within songs. They shifted from major to minor key without any logic. Orbison was deadly serious - no pollywog and no fledgling juvenile. There wasn't anything else on the radio like him.

When Johnson started singing, he seemed like a guy who could have sprung from the head of Zeus in full armor.

There must be some kind of way out of here,' said the joker to the thief...

Thinking of a series of dreamsWhere the time and the tempo flyAnd there's no exit in any direction'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes

And I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinking.

When you've got nothing, you've got nothing to loose.

Play it fuckin' loud!

I accept chaos, I'm not sure whether it accepts me.

Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.

songs, to me, were more important than just light entertainment. They were my preceptor and guide into some altered consciousness of reality. Some different republic, some liberated republic... whatever the case, it wasn't that I was anti-popular culture or anything and I had no ambition to stir things up. I just thought of mainstream culture as lame as hell and a big trick. It was like the unbroken sea of frost that lay outside the window and you had to have awkward footgear to walk with.

There's only one day at a time here, then it's tonight and then tomorrow will be today again.

If you're looking to get silly, you better go back to from where you came. because the cops don't need you and man they expect the same.

Come senators, congressmenPlease heed the callDon't stand in the doorwayDon't block up the hallFor he that gets hurtWill be he who has stalledThere's a battle outside ragin'.It'll soon shake your windowsAnd rattle your wallsFor the times they are a-changin'.

The line it is drawnThe curse it is castThe slow one nowWill later be fastAs the present nowWill later be pastThe new order isRapidly fadin'.And the first one nowWill later be lastFor the times they are a-changin'.

I think of a hero as someone who understands the degree of responsibility that comes with his freedom.

I think the truly natural things are dreams, which nature can't touch with decay.