“What if what you do to survive kills the things you love?”

The first time I heard Bob Dylan, I was in the car with my mother listening to WMCA, and on came that snare shot that sounded like somebody’d kicked open the door to your mind.

I’m the kind of person, I think a lot about everything. Nothin’ I can do about it. It’s like, I’m a thinkin’ fool. That’s a big part of me.

It’s not the time in your life, it’s the life in your time.

We’re gonna play some pool, skip some school, act real cool, stay out all night, it’s gonna be alright.

I believe when your children are born that you are reborn in some fashion.

Talk about a dream, try to make it real.

Blind faith in your leaders, or in anything, will get you killed.

It’s a town full of losers And I’m pulling out of here to win.

I think life goes through a cycle of losing and refinding yourself all the time. Everyone has disappointments all the time, some of them pretty small, some of them pretty big.

Somehow all you ever need’s never really quite enough.

If you have written really well, people will swear that it happened to you.

We’ve got no fairytale ending, in God’s hands our fate is complete. Your heaven’s here in my heart, our love’s this dust beneath my feet.

Success makes life easier. It doesn’t make living easier.

So let’s take the good times as they go and I’ll meet you further on up the road.

She kissed me just right, like only a lonely angel can.

Don’t take yourself too seriously. And take yourself as seriously as death itself.

My mama always told me never put off till tomorrow people you can kill today.

Niggas want to kill me and y’all still wit em and y’all chill wit em and y’all wonder why we not friends.

You don’t remove the evil in a person by killing the person.

The past has to be seen to be dead; or the past will kill.

But I wondered, how would I feel about killing someone? Now I know. It’s no big deal.

My great forte in killing buffaloes was to get them circling by riding my horse at the head of the herd and shooting their leaders. Thus the brutes behind were crowded to the left, so that they were soon going round and round.

Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.

None of my problems come from the people I’ve killed.