“The program for this evening is not new. You’ve seen this entertainment through and through.”

And if you try to remind them, they hate you for it – they feel like you’re trying to steal their most precious possession.

Cinema, heir of alchemy, last of an erotic science.

Cinema, heir of alchemy, last of an erotic science.

Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn And tied her with fences and dragged her down

Society, parents they refuse to allow you to keep the freedom you were born with.

The gate is straight, Deep and wide, Break on through to the other side…

We hide ourselves in our music to reveal ourselves

Just anything to get people to think. I mean if you can get a whole room full of drunk, stoned people to actually wake up and think, you’re doing something.

Guileless and without vanity, we were still in love with ourselves then.

When sex involves all the senses intensely, it can be like a mystical experence.

I wonder why people like to believe I’m high all the time. I guess . . . maybe they think someone else can take their trip for them.

The future is uncertain but the end is always near.

I see myself as an intelligent, sensitive human, with the soul of a clown which forces me to blow it at the most important moments.

People are terrified to be set free – they hold on to their chains. They fight anyone who tries to break those chains. It’s their security..

That unknown was once very well known. It’s where our souls belong….

Rather than starting inside, I start outside and reach the mental through the physical.

I have something to tell you non-smokers that I know for a fact that you don’t know, and I feel it’s my duty to pass on information at all times. Ready?. . . . Non-smokers die every day . . .

When evening quickens in the street, comes a pause in the day’s occupation that is known as the cocktail hour.

Ordnance Survey maps, tea and crumpets, summer showers and foggy winter evenings – every bit of it.

Enjoy your evening. See, I know that you entertain this eternal life fantasy because you’ve chosen not to smoke, but let me be the 1st to POP that bubble and bring you hurling back to reality . . . You’re dead too.

I love Some Enchanted Evening, and If I Loved You. And as I sing them more and more, I find new favorites.

The evening news is a concept whose time has come and gone.

I’ve yet to find the exact word to describe the enjoyment that an evening spent riffling through old pattern books can bring.

Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in