Because language is the carrier of ideas, it is easy to believe that it should be very little else than such a carrier.

The intellectual is a middle-class product; if he is not born into the class he must soon insert himself into it, in order to exist. He is the fine nervous flower of the bourgeoisie.

I hope that one or two immortal lyrics will come out of all this tumbling around.

The Initial Mystery that attends any journey is: how did the traveler reach his starting point in the first place?

I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering; surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy!

... politics are nothing but sand and gravel: it is art and life that feed us until we die. Everything else is ambition, hysteria or hatred.

Perhaps this very instant is your time.

Stupidity always accompanies evil. Or evil, stupidity.

...in a time lacking in truth and certainty and filled with anguish and despair, no woman should be shamefaced in attempting to give back to the world, through her work, a portion of its lost heart.

Your work is carved out of agony as a statue is carved out of marble.

I have lost faith in universal panaceas - work is the one thing in which I really believe.

Sometimes you just gotta wear the tinfoil hat.

My dad was a musician, it was just what he did, like another guy's dad drives a meat truck. Our house was normal. We weren't taken with the fact our dad was a musician.

I don't respond in any way to personal abuse that is thrown at me.

I've got no ego; I just like to have thousands of people write to me and tell me how wonderful I am.

Every great movement and which the conservative movement is, of course, every great movement ends up being a little bit sclerotic and dusty after a time and I think they need new fusion of energy.

His eyes were cold and brown - like coffee stains.

We have developed this unbelievable ability to deny. We have to. If we didn't, we'd go crazy.

It’s not wondering what I breathe in, but who, that threatens to choke me.

And psychedelics now, as we de-condition ourselves from the post-medieval world, they are present to hand as tools.

Who of us knows or can by possibility arrive at a knowledge of the laws that govern our property and lives?