May you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung. May you stay forever young.
Abe said, where do you want this killing done? God said, out on highway 61.
Money doesn't talk, it swears.
Everything from toy guns that spark To flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark It's easy to see without looking too far That not much is really sacred.
Bob Dylan wrote in his elliptical memoir, Chronicles: Volume One, he was washed up in the 1980s, no longer a commercial success, and no longer putting out good work.
Mona Lisa must have had the highway blues; you can tell by the way she smiles.
I like the fans, but I don't feel an obligation that I have to be an example to them, like say maybe a baseball player would, or a football player or maybe some other type of musicians. I don't feel I have to really set an example that somebody else has to live up to.
[In 1951] we were also told that the Russians could be parachuting from planes over our town at any time. These were the same Russians that my uncles had fought alongside only a few years earlier. Now they had become monsters who were coming to slit our throats and incinerate us. It seemed peculiar. Living under a cloud of fear like this robs a child of his spirit. It's one thing to be afraid when someone's holding a shotgun on you, but it's another thing to be afraid of something that's just not quite real.
A brilliant 1989 album, Oh Mercy; some career retrospectives; and two albums of American folk songs, with just Bob Dylan and his guitar and harmonica. All that culminated in the Grammy-winning comeback album, Time Out of Mind (1997). Once again, just as Dylan seemed to be out of it, he was back at the top of his game.
I was never a topical songwriter.
I thought that he was righteous, but he's vain. Oh, somethings a telling me I wear the ball and chain.
Just a reminder, if you tell anyone about what happened with Jonah last night, I'll destroy all of my writing and never play music again.
Ah, current music. What would that be? Ah, really, a lot of it sounds defective to me. It makes me restless.
The tree of life is growing where the spirit never dies, and the bright light of salvation shines in dark and empty skies.
"Like a Rolling Stone" [of Bob Dylan] is a kiss-off song like none before or since.
...don't criticize what you can't understand, your sons and your daughters are beyond your command.
City's just a jungle; more games to play Trapped in the heart of it, tryin' to get away I was raised in the country, I been workin' in the town I been in trouble ever since I set my suitcase down
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.
You don't have to be afraid of looking into my face. We've done nothing to each other that time will not erase.
Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people, they're drinking, thinking that they got it made. Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things, but you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it, babe.
How many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind, The answer is blowin' in the wind.
Bob Dylan wasn't a big star early on; it was the release of his Greatest Hits album in 1967, and the mainstream success of the stoner anthem "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" ("Everybody must get stoned!"), that really put him on the mainstream map.
Bob has never written a bad song. Bob Dylan is a genius.
If you ever tell anyone about Jonah's sexual dysfunction, I'll never play music again.
I paint mostly from real life. It has to start with that. Real people, real street scenes, behind the curtain scenes, live models, paintings, photographs, staged setups, architecture, grids, graphic design. Whatever it takes to make it work.
"America was founded on the backs of slaves."
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