“I've always had an obligation to creation, above all.”

“I've got some words of wisdom.”

“I’m forever near a stereo saying, ‘What the fuck is this garbage?’ And the answer is always the Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

“It's like this, Bunny Boy, if you walk up to an oak tree or a bloody elm or something - you know, one of those big bastards - one with a thick, heavy trunk with giant roots that grow deep in the soil and great branches that are covered in leaves, right, and you walk up to it and give the tree a shake, well, what happens?' (...)'I really don't know, Dad,' (...)'Well, nothing bloody happens, of course!' (...) 'You can stand there shaking it till the cows come home and all that will happen is your arms will get tired. Right?'(...)'Right, Dad,' he says.(...)'But if you go up to a skinny, dry, fucked-up little tree, with a withered trunk and a few leaves clinging on for dear life, and you put your hands around it and shake the shit out of it - as we say in the trade - those bloody leaves will come flying off! Yeah?''OK, Dad,' says the boy (...)'Now, the big oak tree is the rich bastard, right, and the skinny tree is the poor cunt who hasn't got any money. Are you with me?'Bunny Junior nods.'Now, that sounds easier than it actually is, Bunny Boy. Do you want to know why?''OK, Dad.''Because every fucking bastard and his dog has got hold of the little tree and is shaking it for all that it's worth - the government, the bloody landlord, the lottery they don't have a chance in hell of winning, the council, their bloody exes, their hundred snotty-nosed brats running around because they are too bloody stupid to exercise a bit of self-control, all the useless shit they see on TV, fucking Tesco, parking fines, insurance on this and insurance on that, the boozer, the fruit machines, the bookies - every bastard and his three-legged, one-eyed, pox-riden dog are shaking this little tree,' says Bunny, clamping his hands together and making like he is throttling someone.'So what do you go and do, Dad?' says Bunny Junior.'Well, you've got to have something they think they need, you know, above all else.''And what's that, Dad?''Hope... you know... the dream. You've got to sell them the dream.”

“You searched through all my poets,From Sappho through to Auden,I saw the book fall from your hands,As you slowly died of boredom.”

“She was given to me to put things rightAnd I stacked all my accomplishments beside herStill I seemed so obselete and smallI found God and all His devils inside herIn my bed she cast the blizzard outA mock sun blazed upon her headSo completely filled with light she wasHer shadow fanged and hairy and madOur love-lines grew hopelessly tangledAnd the bells from the chapel went jingle-jangle”

“Death looms large I guess because it should. It’s the one thing that we as human beings from birth have a right to. It’s the only thing we’ve really got, and I don’t mean to sound bleak about this, but it’s a unifying factor amongst us all.”