“Well I knew when I first laid eyes on herI could never be freeOne look at her and I knew right awayShe should always be with meWell the dream dried up a long time agoDon't know where it is anymoreTrue to life, true to meWas the girl from the red river shoreWell I'm wearing the cloak of miseryAnd I've tasted jilted loveAnd the frozen smile upon my faceFits me like a gloveWell I can't escape from the memoryOf the one I'll always adoreAll those nights when I lay in the armsOf the girl from the red river shoreWell we're living in the shadows of a fading pastTrapped in the fires of timeI've tried not to ever hurt anybodyAnd to stay out of the life of crimeAnd when it's all been said and doneI never did know the scoreOne more day is another day awayFrom the girl from the red river shore.”

“It's like my whole life never happened,When I see you, it's as if I never had a thought.I know this dream, it might be crazy,But it's the only one I've got.”

“Little red wagon, little red bike, I ain’t no monkey but I know what I like.”

“Well, I’ve been to London and I’ve been to gay Paris
I’ve followed the river and I got to the sea
I’ve been down on the bottom of a world full of lies
I ain’t looking for nothing in anyone’s eyes
Sometimes my burden seems more than I can bear
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting thereI was born here and I’ll die here against my will
I know it looks like I’m moving, but I’m standing still
Every nerve in my body is so vacant and numb
I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from
Don’t even hear a murmur of a prayer
It’s not dark yet, but it’s getting there-Bob Dylan, “Not Dark Yet” (1997)”

“look, you know i don't wanna come on ungrateful, but that warren report, you know as well as me, just didn't make it. You know, like they might as well have asked some banana salesman from des moines, who was up in toronto on the big day, if he saw anyone around looking suspicious/...”

“Environment affects me a great deal. A lot of the songs were written after the sun went down. And I like storms, I like to stay up during a storm. I get very meditative sometimes, and this one phrase was going through my head: `Work while the day lasts, because the night of death cometh when no man can work.' I don't recall where I heard it. I like preaching, I hear a lot of preaching, and I probably just heard it somewhere. Maybe it's in Psalms, it beats me. But it wouldn't let me go. I was, like, what does that phrase mean? But it was at the forefront of my mind, for a long period of time...”

“I was lingering out on the pavement. There was a missing person inside of myself and I needed to find him . . . I felt done for, an empty burned-out wreck . . . Wherever I am, I'm a '60s troubadour, a folk-rock relic, a wordsmith from bygone days, a fictitious head of state from a place nobody knows.”