A Sip Of Wine, A Cigarette, And

[i Had A Sense Of Interior Panic].always. I Didn't Really Know What To Call It For A Long Time, But I Have A Friend In Greece Who Used That Word Panic A Lot, And I Found Myself Resisting It, Until I Totally Accepted That As A Precise Description Of My Interior Condition. It Was Mostly Panic From One Moment To The Next. And Nothing Much Else Was Going On.

I See People Allowing Their Lives To Diminish, To Become Shallow, So They Can't Enjoy The Deep Wells Of Experience. Maybe It's Always Been This Way, When The Heart Tends To Shut Down. If Only The Heart Shut Down And There Were No Repercussions, It Would Be O.k., But When The Heart Shuts Down, The Whole System Goes Into A Kind Of Despair That Is Intolerable.

I Can Work On A Verse For A Very Long Time Before Realising It's Not Any Good And Then, And Only Then, Can I Discard It.

Journalists, Especially English Journalists, Were Very Cruel To Me. They Said I Only Knew Three Chords When I Knew Five!

We Do What Only Lovers Can: Make A Gift Out Of Necessity.