The Personal Life Deeply Lived Always Expands

Jazz Is The Music Of The Body.

I Like Extravagance. Letters Which Give The Postman A Stiff Back To Carry, Books Which Overflow From Their Covers, Sexuality Which Bursts The Thermometers.

Idealism Is The Death Of The Body And The Imagination. All But Freedom, Utter Freedom, Is Death

I Prefer Empty Cages, Sabina, Until I Find A Unique Bird I Once Saw In My Dreams.

The Complaints Of The Child In Us Will Never Cease Lamenting Until It Is Consoled, Answered, Understood. Only Then Will It Lie Still In Us, Like Our Fears. It Will Die In Peace And Leave Us What The Child Leaves To The Man - The Sense Of Wonder.