Though it’s fearful, Though it’s deep, though it’s dark And though you may lose the path, Though you may encounter wolves, You can’t just act, You have to listen. you can’t just act, You have...

I prefer neurotic people. I like to hear rumblings beneath the surface.

The dumbing down of the country reflects itself on Broadway. The shows get dumber, and the public gets used to them.

There’s a hole in the world like a big black pit who are filled with people who are filled with shit.

Unless the object of the singer’s affection is a vampire, surely what Hart means is unphotogenic. Only vampires are unphotographable, but affectionate ‘-enic’ rhymes are hard to come by.

I chose and my world was shaken, so what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not.

The worst thing you can do is censor yourself as the pencil hits the paper. You must not edit until you get it all on paper. If you can put everything down, stream-of-consciousness, you’ll do...

Automobile in America,Chromium steel in America,Wire-spoke wheel in America,Very big deal in America!Immigrant goes to America,Many hellos in America,Nobody knows in America,Puerto Rico’s in America!I like the shores of America!Comfort is yours in America!Knobs on...

One difference between poetry and lyrics is that lyrics sort of fade into the background. They fade on the page and live on the stage when set to music.

Music straightjackets a poem and prevents it from breathing on its own, whereas it liberates a lyric. Poetry doesn’t need music; lyrics do.

A folktale without a moral is merely a whimsy.

Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.

Was that me? Yes it was. Was that him? No it wasn’t.. Just a trick of the woods! Just a moment, One peculiar passing moment. Must it all be either less or more, Either plain...

If I cannot fly, let me sing.

Must it all be either less or more,Either plain or grand?Is it always ‘or’?Is it never ‘and’?That’s what woods are for:For those moments in the woods…Oh, if life were made of moments,Even now and then...

Music blows lyrics up very quickly, and suddenly they become more than art. They become pompous and they become self-conscious … I firmly believe that lyrics have to breathe and give the audience’s ear a...

Alright! You sir, you sir, how about a shave?Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.You sir, too sir? Welcome to the grave.I will have vengenance.I will have salvation.Who sir, you sir?No ones in the chair,...