Create, And Be True To Yourself, And

New York Is A Place Where The Rich Walk, The Poor Drive Cadillacs, And Beggars Die Of Malnutrition With Thousands Of Dollars Hidden In Their Mattresses.

Billy Strayhorn Was My Right Arm, My Left Arm, All The Eyes In The Back Of My Head, My Brainwaves In His Head, And His In Mine.

There Are Simply Two Kinds Of Music, Good Music And The Other Kind ... The Only Yardstick By Which The Result Should Be Judged Is Simply That Of How It Sounds. If It Sounds Good It's Successful; If It Doesn't It Has Failed.

Music Is My Mistress And She Plays Second Fiddle To No One.

Roaming Through The Jungle Of "ohs" And "ahs", Searching For A More Agreeable Noise, I Live A Life Of Primitivity With The Mind Of A Child And An Unquenchable Thirst For Sharps And Flats.