It don't take me no three days to record no album.

The blues tells a story. Every line of the blues has a meaning.

I don't play a lot of fancy guitar. I don't want to play it. The kind of guitar I want to play is mean, mean licks.

When I die, they'll bury the blues with me. But the blues will never die.

I don't do nothin’ I don't want to do.

I don't think about time. You're here when you're here. I think about today, staying in tune.

The one thing the blues don't get is the backing and pushing of TV and radio like a lot of this garbage you hears. They choke stuff down people's throat so they got no choice but to listen to it.

No matter what you got, the blues is there

It's never hard to sing the blues. Everyone in the world has the blues . . .

I remember back in Detroit, I used to go to the Apex Bar every night after I got off work. The bartender there used to call me Boom Boom. I don't know why, but he did.

I hitchhiked, took trucks 'n' trains - anything that would pick me up. I stopped in Memphis for about six months and they found me and come got me. Stayed about a month an' split again.

When people have nothing positive or negative to say about you, it means you don't exist

You are not listening to a word I am saying . . . and I am making the most delightful plans for your future.

A country so rich that it can send people to the moon still has hundreds of thousands of its citizens who can't read. That's terribly troubling to me.

It is a sure evidence of a good book if it pleases us more and more as we grow older.

I beseech you now with all my heart definitely to let me know your whole mind as to the love between us.

The only people who claim that money is not important are people who have enough money so that they are relieved of the ugly burden of thinking about it.

Judicial abuse occurs when judges substitute their own political views for the law.

If an eloquent speaker speak not the truth, is there a more horrid kind of object in creation?

All knowledge is partial, infinitesimally partial. Reason is a net thrown out into an ocean. What truth it brings in is a fragment, a glimpse, a scintillation of the whole truth.

It is a thousand pities never to say what one feels.