Who could have foretoldthe heart grows oldfrom touching others

I walk through the old yellow sunlightto get to my kitchen tablethe poem about melying there with the booksin which I am listedamong the dead and future Dylans

Life is not only consisted of "yes" and "no", but a lot of "yes and's" and "no but's".

Cursed is our love, as we long for each other like wounded doves with these feelings we suffocate ...

There is a fundamental shift that social media necessitates in business today - the need to transition from 'Me First' to 'We First' thinking.

Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance, exquisite, exquisite and melting her all molten inside.

I do wish you wouldn't argue with me when I'm knitting.

How I hated the dark part of me that continually foretold of failure or futility.

The music business was not safe, but it was FUN. It was like falling in love with a woman you know is bad for you, but you love every minute with her, anyway.

I think I'm the oldest new Bob Dylan around. I predate Bruce Springsteen, Steve Forbat and John Prine. I was probably the first of the new Bob Dylans.

The award of a pure gold medal for poetry would flatter the recipient unduly: no poem ever attains such carat purity.

Enjoy your work so that others may enjoy the results.