I usually kept everybody at arm's distance.

A reporter from 'The Times' wanted to arm-wrestle, and as I recall, he kept challenging me. So we went at it, and there was a pop. His arm broke. Very strange. He went into a kind of swoon.

Some asshole kept throwing oranges and other fruit at me while I was onstage. Fucker had an arm like a major league pitcher...

I sat down one night and wrote the line rock, rock, rock everybody.

hooded, shackled and kept in cages.

There are no secrets better kept than the secrets everybody guesses.