It Is Habit For Me To Discount

My Dream Of Happiness: A Quiet Spot By The Jamaican Seashore . . . Hearing The Wind Sob With The Beauty And The Tragedy Of Everything. Sitting Under An Almond Tree, With The Leaf Spread Over Me Like An Umbrella.

You Can Never Trust A Human Being To Behave As You Would Have Expected In A Given Circumstance

It Is Habit For Me To Discount Myself Before Somebody Else Does It For Me. Better To Get In The First Lick

I Portray Myself As Wicked, Hoping I Will Not Be Regarded As Wicked. But I May Be Wicked In The Biblical Sense

I Enter A Whorehouse With The Same Interest As I Do The British Museum Or The Metropolitan - In The Same Spirit Of Curiosity. Here Are The Works Of Man, Here Is An Art Of Man, Here Is The Eternal Pursuit Of Gold And Pleasure. I Couldn't Be More Sincere. This Doesn't Mean That If I Go To La Scala In Milan To Hear Carmen I Want To Get Up On The Stage And Participate. I Do Not. Neither Do I Always Participate In A Fine Representative National Whorehouse - But I Must See It As A Spectacle, An Offering, A Symptom Of A Nation.