By many peoples' standards, my playing is very primitive but by punk standards, I'm a virtuoso.
A man who loses his privacy loses everything. And a man who gives it up of his own free will is a monster.
Humanity's true moral test, its fundamental test…consists of its attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals.
In the mind of a woman for whom no place is home the thought of an end to all flight is unbearable.
The heaviest of burdens is simultaneously an image of life's most intense fullfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into new heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?
I feel a frantic desire to free myself. To start all over again and in another way.
Man can only be certain about the present moment. But is that quite true either? Can he really know the present? Is he in a position to make any judgment about it? Certainly not. For how can a person with no knowledge of the future understand the meaning of the present? If we do not know what future the present is leading us toward, how can we say whether this present is good or bad, whether it deserves our concurrence, or our suspicion, or our hatred?
By God, I could make myself bring her that economically halved grapefruit, that sugarless breakfast.
The faster the word sticks to the thought, the more beautiful is the effect.
To me, an untrained ear, a young person at the time, I would hear off the different feels, all these different sounds, and then years later realize that everyone had used the same equipment, just to their own ends.
Simplicity survives the changes of fashion. Women of chic are wearing now dresses they bought from me in 1936. Fit the century, forget the year.