Bob Dylan Quotations | Page 3

Now all the criminals in their suits and ties are free to drink martinis and watch the sunrise

How many deaths will it take 'till we know that too many people have died?

If I made records for my own pleasure, I would only record Charley Patton songs.

Death to me means nothing as long as I can die fast.

Situations have ended sad, Relationships have all been bad.

The one who is not being born is dying.

So, I don't know. I think so. It's all in the heart, whatever keeps you that way. Keeps you forever young. Forever young doesn't necessarily mean that you don't grow old, but you just have some contact with what put you where you are. You know, keep some type of contact. Anyway...

I'm determined to stand whether God will deliver me or not.

A million faces at my feet but all I see are dark eyes.

You know, the streets are filled with vipers Who've lost all ray of hope You know, it ain't even safe no more In the palace of the Pope

I find C major to be the key of strength, but also the key of regret. E major is the key of confidence. A-flat major is the key of renunciation.

Morality has nothing in common with politics.

Sundown, yellow moon, I replay the past I know every scene by heart, they all went by so fast

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

...we are singing today of the WIPE-OUT GANG - the WIPE-OUT GANG buys, owns & operates the Insanity Factory - if you do not know where the Insanity Factory is located, you should hereby take two steps to the right, paint your teeth & go to sleep....

She's a hypnotist collector; you are a walking antique...

There's no liquor in the land that can stop your brain from bleedin

There's no black and white, left and right to me anymore; there's only up and down and down is very close to the ground. And I'm trying to go up without thinking about anything trivial such as politics. They have got nothing to do with it. I'm thinking about the general people and when they get hurt.

Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder

The longer you live, the better you get.

If you don't have to write songs, why write them? I've got enough where I don't really feel the urge to write anything additional.

Well, I sing by night, wander by day. I'm on the road and it looks like I'm here to stay.

Some things are too terrible to be true.

There's eyes behind the mirrors in empty places.

All the tired horses in the sun How'm I supposed to get any ridin' done? Hmm.

I once loved a girl, her skin it was bronze With the innocence of a lamb, she was gentle like a fawn I courted her proudly but now she is gone Gone as the season she's taken

Lay down the song you strum, And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum.

If you're looking to get silly, you better go back to from where you came. because the cops don't need you and man they expect the same.

You been down to the bottom with a bad man, babe But you're back were you belong

Crimson flames tied through my ears Rollin' high and mighty traps Pounced with fire on flaming roads Using ideas as my maps "We'll meet on edges, soon," said I Proud 'neath heated brow. Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now. Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth "Rip down all hate," I screamed Lies that life is black and white Spoke from my skull. I dreamed Romantic facts of musketeers Foundationed deep, somehow. Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

Upon four-legged forest clouds the cowboy angel rides

The Harmonica is the world’s best-selling musical instrument. You’re welcome.

In the fury of the moment/ I can see the Master's hand In every leaf that trembles, in/ every grain of sand.

Peace will come With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall..

May God bless and keep you always, May your wishes all come true, May you always do for others And let others do for you. May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung, May you stay forever young,

It's east to see without lookin' too far that not much is really sacred.

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind, Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves, The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach, Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow. Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free, Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands, With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves, Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

I didn't come out of a cereal box.

It wouldn't kill you to stay the night anyway.

The sun's not yellow, its chicken!

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.

I was so much older then; I'm younger than that now. From the back pages

Thinking of a series of dreams Where the time and the tempo fly And there's no exit in any direction 'Cept the one that you can't see with your eyes

She never stumbles, she's got no place to fall. She's nobody's child, the law can't touch her at all.

When you asked me how I was doing, was that some kind of joke

If ever asked to look at yourself, don't.

You call yourself what you want to call yourself. This is the land of the free

They can't hurt me. Sure, they can crush you and kill you. They can lay you out on 42nd and Broadway and put hoses on you and flush you in the sewers and put you on the subway and carry you out to Coney island and bury you on the Ferris wheel. But I refuse to sit here and worry about dying.

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.

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.

i've forgotten more than you'll ever know

Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates. Broken dishes, broken parts, streets are filled with broken hearts.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship.

The cards are no good that your are holding unless you're from another world.

For whose sake did you live, for whose sake did you die? Forgive me, baby, for what I didn't do.

I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

I'll stand over your grave 'til I'm sure that you're dead.

It's mighty funny. The end of time has just begun.

Let the dead bury the dead, your time will come.

You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies. One day you'll be in the ditch, flies buzzin' around your eyes.

I'm looking for a woman who's head is mixed up like mine.

She takes your voice and leaves you howling at the moon.

Michelangelo indeed could have carved out your features.

Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes. Daddy's in the alley, he's looking for food.

My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip, my toes to numb to step, wait only for my boot heels to be wandering.

The rifleman's stalking the sick and the lame, preacherman seeks the same, who'll get there first is uncertain.

You got men who can't hold peace and women who can't control their tongues. The rich seduce the poor, and the old seduce the young.

He did ten years in Attica, reading Nietzsche and Wilhelm Reich.

Shakespeare, he's in the alley with his pointed shoes and his bells, speaking to some French girl who says she knows me well.

Well the book of Leviticus and Deuteronomy, the law of the jungle and the sea are your only teachers.

Well the Lone Ranger and Tonto, they are riding down the line fixing everybody's troubles, everybody except mine.

With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks, you've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books.

My love ,she speaks like silence, without ideals or violence. She doesn't have to say she's faithful, yet she's true.

She can play my guitar note for note, she likes to stick her tongue down my throat.

She speaks with a stutter and she and she walks with a hop. I don't know why I love her, but I just can't stop.

Witchcraft scum exploiting the dumb turning children into punks and slaves.

I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.

I make my stand and remain as I am, and bid farewell and not give a damn.

Since my feet are now fast and point away from the past, I'll bid farewell and be down the line.

They asked me for some collateral and I pulled down my pants.

If I had rubies, riches, and crowns, I'd buy the whole world and change things around.

Love is all there is, it makes the world go around. Love and only love, it can't be denied.

You say love is just a four letter word.

I saw him making love to you, you forgot to close the garage door.

When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud, I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.

I have tried my hand at bribery, blackmail, and deceit. And I've served time for everything, cept beggin on the street.

The woman I love she got a prize fighter nose, cauliflower ears and a run in her hose.

One was Texas medicine, the other was just railroad gin, and like a fool I mixed them.

We never thought we could ever get old.

Ain't nothing too discreet about the disease of conceit.

I thought that he was righteous, but he's vain. Oh, somethings a telling me I wear the ball and chain.

It will scramble your head and drag your brain about, sometimes you gotta do like Elvis did and shoot the damn thing out.

Done so many evil things in the name of love, it's a crying shame. I never did see no fire that could put out a flame.

Good intentions can be evil, both hands are full of grease. You know, sometimes Satan comes as a man of peace.

He's hell bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused, and his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.

I was down in the sewer with some little lover.

I was sick of the way my lyrics had been extrapolated, their meanings subverted into polemics and that I had been anointed as the Big Bubba of Rebellion, High Priest of Protest, the Duke of Disobedience, Leader of the Freeloaders, Kaiser of Apostasy, Archbishop of Anarchy, the Big Cheese. Horrible titles any way you want to look at it. All code words for Outlaw.

Sometimes I wonder what it's gonna take to find dignity.

Everything in New Orleans is a good idea.

I just wanted a song to sing, and there came a point where I couldn't sing anything...nobo dy else was writing what I wanted to sing. I couldn't find it anywhere. If I could I probably would never have started writing.