“I scribbled something in my notebook the other day for future use, just had the idea while driving along; that happens a lot. It goes like this: ‘The old dreams were good dreams; they didn’t work out, but I’m glad I had them’. “
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“I mean” – his voice was a little shaky, a little rough – “if you don’t mind my boldness, you look stunning. Make-‘em-run-around-the-block-howling-in-agony-stunning. I’m serious...”
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“In a universe of ambiguity, this kind of certainty comes only once, and never again, no matter how many lifetimes you live.”
‘There are songs that come free from the blue-eyed grass, from the dust of a thousand country roads. This is one of them.’
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