“I was king of the mountain for a long time, well, I don’t want that no more.”

Maybe it’s time we got back to the basics of love.

Now, I was on drugs, and that didn’t help a whole lot. He hated that.

There is one in every crowd, for crying out loud, why was is always turning out to be me?

I may be crazy, but it keeps me from going insane.

Finally, my manager negotiated a deal where I got to produce my own records.

I was very young then. Buddy taught me so much in such a short time.

Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold, outlaws touch ladies somewhere deep down in their soul.

This world that I live in is empty and cold/the loneliness cuts me and tortures my soul.

I can’t walk, so I can’t go home. No need to talk, cause I’m all alone. If I stay here they’re gonna lock me in, hitting the bottle again.

One thing is that I wasn’t getting booked that well, and they had control over who got the awards, they had control over who sold.

Besides that, I felt guilty. I thought for some reason…

Did ole Hank really do it this way?

If I could only fly, you see, a lot of my problems would be gone. When you think of just how much I’d save on shoes alone.

I’m old and crazy, but I still give a damn. And I still think the boys got screwed over in Vietnam.

I’m just a man, no more or no less. Bad as the worst, good as the best.

And they really did not want Willie or me, either one, to “have a hit record. They wanted the money, but they didn’t want us to be the ones.

My father was a very religious person. And he prayed five times a day. And he did that throughout his relationship with Ataturk.

I have always had strong maternal instincts.

I was nineteen and I put a bowl on and I said, Cut around! Because it was not the fashion at the time when I did that hairdo – and I kept it all my life!

There is something fearfully strengthening about cutting free even if the ties bandage the heart itself.

In [family snapshots] the flow of profane time has been stopped and a sacred interval of self-conscious revelation has been cut from it by the edge of the picture frame and the light of the sun or the flash.

A decade of cutting away dead flesh, cauterizing old scars ripped open over and over and still it is not enough.

Each of us is carving a stone, erecting a column, or cutting a piece of stained glass in the construction of something much bigger than ourselves.

Energy has to be fed from a source. If you don’t feed the source, it dissipates entirely.