Some people think I'm a rock 'n' roll musician and some think I'm a jazz musician but, for me, there is no difference.
If you wish, I shall grow irreproachably tender: not a man, but a cloud in trousers!
Art must not be concentrated in dead shrines called museums. lt must be spread everywhere – on the streets, in the trams, factories, workshops, and in the workers' homes.
Our planet is poorly equipped for delight. One must snatch gladness from the days that are. In this life it's not difficult to die. To make life is more difficult by far.
Past one o’clock. You must have gone to bed. The Milky Way streams silver through the night. I’m in no hurry; with lightning telegrams I have no cause to wake or trouble you. And, as they say, the incident is closed. Love’s boat has smashed against the daily grind. Now you and I are quits. Why bother then To balance mutual sorrows, pains, and hurts. Behold what quiet settles on the world. Night wraps the sky in tribute from the stars. In hours like these, one rises to address The ages, history, and all creation.
In the church of my heart the choir is on fire
On the pavement of my trampled soul the steps of madmen weave the prints of rude crude words.
Old people, don't watch it because you might die just watching it.
Tell me how much you know of the sufferings of your fellowmen and I will tell you how much you have loved them.
Oddly, I do have a problem with authority. I find it very difficult to knuckle down and follow rules. Which are the classic symptoms of someone who has a troubled relationship with their father. And yet, I never had a problem with my father.
The filth and noise of the crowded streets soon destroy the elasticity of health which belongs to the country boy.