"Where'd my youth go? Why didn't fame hold off old age and death? Why the hell did I leave the fame in the first place and do I want it back, and could I have it back? And if I could, would it make any damned difference?"
"Shit! Get old, you can't even cuss someone and have it bother 'em. Everything you do is either worthless or sadly amusing."
"My God, man. How long have I been here? Am I really awake, or am I just dreamin' I'm awake? How could my plans have gone so wrong?"
"My own daughter... lost long ago to me... if she knew I lived, would she come and see me? Would she even care?"
"I don't know. 'Cause they got old. The woman I loved - Priscilla - she was gone. The rest of the women... were just women. I mean the music wasn't even mine anymore. I wasn't even me anymore. Just this thing they made up. And my friends... well they were sucking me dry."
"It's a cancer. They're keeping it from me 'cause I'm old, and to them it doesn't matter. They think age will kill me first, and they're probably right. Well, suck them! I know what it is, and if it isn't... it might as well be."
"Here I was complainin' about loss of pride and how life had treated me, and now I realized... I never had any pride. And much of how life had treated me had been good. The bulk of the bad was my own damn fault. Should've fired Colonel Parker by the time I got in the pictures. Old fart had been a shark and a fool, and I was even a bigger fool for following him. If only I'd treated Priscilla right. If I could've told my daughter I loved her. Always the questions. Never the answers. Always the hopes... never the fulfillments."
"In the movies, I always played the heroic types. But when the stage lights went out, it was time for drugs, and stupidity, and the coveting of women. Now it's time. Time to be a little of what I had always fantasized of bein' - a hero."
"What do I really have left in life but this place? It ain't much of a home, but it's all I got. Well, goddamnit. I'll be damned if I let some foreign, graffiti writin', soul suckin', son of a bitch in an oversized cowboy hat and boots take my friend's souls and shit 'em down the visitors toilet!"
"The revealing of her panties was neither intentional or non-intentional, she just didn't give a damn. She was so sentimental on me that she didn't mind that I got a bird's eye view of her love nest. I felt my pecker flutter once, like a pigeon havin' a heart attack, then lay back down and remain limp and still. Of course, these days even a flutter was kinda reassurin'."
"How could I have gone from the king of rock'n'roll to this? An old guy in a restroom in East Texas with a *growth* on his pecker."
"But I still have my soul. It's still mine. All mine. And the folks up there at Shady Rest... they have theirs, too. And they're gonna keep 'em. Every single one."
"Thank you. Thank you very much."