“I can’t tell you that, because I’m not God, am I?”

“…I move in with a high school teacher who also does a little plumbing on the side, who ain’t much to look at, but who’s built a special kind of refrigerator that can turn newspaper into lettuce. Everything’s going good until that delivery boy shows up and tries to knife me. Needless to say, he burned the house down, and I hit the road. The first guy that picked me up asked me if I wanted to be a star. What could I say?” (NY Mag: The Ten Most Incomprehensible Bob Dylan Interviews of All Time)

Posted in L'art pour l'art. Comments Off on “I can’t tell you that, because I’m not God, am I?”
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