He handed me a record out of his backpack that he'd just made in San Francisco. We played that record for the next days, months and years. It was an eye-opener. We were just beginning to write songs, and Townes set a whole new standard for how songs should be written.

world is a drama, we are the actors with our play role

What about San Francisco?"
"What about it?"
"Did you like it?"
She shrugged. "It was O.K."
"Just O.K.?"
She laughed. "Good God!"
"What?"
"You're all alike here."
"How so?" he asked.
"You demand adoration for the place. You're not happy until everybody swears undying love for every nook and cranny of every precious damn --"
"Whoa, missy."
"Well, it's true. Can't you just worship it on your own? Do I have to sign an affadavit?"
He chuckled. "We're that bad, are we?"
"You bet your ass you are.

I've got more chins than a San Francisco phonebook.

San Francisco is gone. Nothing remains of it but memories.

This is one Hart that you will not leave in San Francisco.