We're drinking and we're dancing but there's nothing really happening. The place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night.

If you're squeezed for information, that's when you've got to play it dumb: You just say you're out there waiting for the miracle to come.

Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.

Waiting for the miracle There's nothing left to do. I haven't been this happy since the end of World War II.

We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say - and to f…

I feel like one, Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed!

Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.