A Quote by Bob Dylan

Walkin' through the leaves fallin' from the trees, Feelin' like a stranger nobody sees. — © Bob Dylan
Walkin' through the leaves fallin' from the trees, Feelin' like a stranger nobody sees.
I woke up this mornin' Feelin' round for my shoes Know 'bout I got these, Old walkin' blues.
Men in their generations are like the leaves of the trees. The wind blows and one year's leaves are scattered on the ground; but the trees burst into bud and put on fresh ones when the spring comes round.
know the feelin, when you feelin like a villain, You be havin good thoughts but the evils be revealin'. And the stresses of life can take you off the right path, Jealousy and envy tends to infiltrate your staff... We gotta hold it down so we can move on past All adversities, so we can get through fast.
Our lives are like islands in the sea, or like trees in the forest. The maple and the pine may whisper to each other with their leaves ... But the trees also commingle their roots in the darkness underground, and the islands also hang together through the ocean's bottom.
You love the way it makes me feel when I can't catch my breath Like walkin' on a high wire, Lord, it scares me half to death You're always high above me and I'm always fallin' down Our loves just a circus baby, and I'm just the clown
Outside the trees dragged their leaves like nets through the depths of the air; the sound of water was in the room and through the waves came the voices of birds singing.
I wanna tell the whole world about a friend of mine / This little light of mine, I'm feelin' let it shine / I'm feelin' take y'all back to them better times/ I'm feelin' talk about my mama if y'all don't mind
We did not come to remain whole. We came to lose our leaves like the trees, Trees that start again.
. . .sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that?" “Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are.
You haven't been on tape, nobody sees what you can do, nobody sees how you play, so they don't have anything to watch.
I was like, "Everybody sees my characters. Nobody sees me!"
Feelin' guilty, feelin' scared, hidden cameras everywhere.
The trees change their voices in autumn as well as their shapes. No longer do they whisper to one another in muffled tones as they did in summer; they talk in a different leaf-language now. The wind moves through the boughs like fingers drawn across the strings of a harp filling the air with the harsh dry sound of sapless leaves. It is the main theme of the autumn music, this murmuring counterpoint of dead leaves.
How torturous is the "churchly" language one must speak in church - the tone, style, habit. It is all artificial; there is a total absence of a simple human language. With what a sigh of relief one leaves this world of cassocks, and kissing and church gossip. As soon as one leaves, one sees: wet bare branches, fog which floats over fields, trees, homes. Sky. Early dusk. And it all tells an incredibly simple truth.
What has roots as nobody sees, Is taller than trees Up, up it goes, And yet never grows? A mountain.
It starts with an "I" And ends with a "U" I got a feelin' Are you feelin' it too
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