Well, I started out down a dirty road. Started out all alone. And the sun went down as I crossed the hill. And the town lit up, the world got still. I'm learning to fly but I ain't got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing. Well, the good ol' days may not return. And the rocks might melt and the sea may burn. I'm learning to fly but I ain't got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing. Well, some say life will beat you down. Break your heart, steal your crown. So I've started out for God knows where. I guess I'll know when I get there. I'm learning to fly around the clouds. But what goes up must come down
Tom PettyAbout author
- Author's profession: Musician
- Nationality: american
- Born: October 20, 1953
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Divinity must live within herself: Passions of rain, or moods in the falling snow; Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued. Elations when the forest blooms; gusty. Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights; All pleasures and all pains, remembering. The boughs of summer and the winter branch. These are the measures destined for her soul.
Wallace Stevens
Writers don't often say anything that readers don't already know, unless its a news story. A writer's greatest pleasure is revealing to people things they knew but did not know they knew. Or did not realize everyone else knew, too. This produces a warm sense of fellow feeling and is the best a writer can do.
Andy Rooney
a man who has decided upon self-destruction is far removed from mundane affairs, and to sit down and write his will would be, at that moment, an act just as absurd as winding up one’s watch, since together with the man, the whole world is destroyed; the last letter is instantly reduced to dust and, with it, all the postmen; and like smoke, vanishes the estate bequeathed to a nonexistent progeny.
Vladimir Nabokov