Without form, the sensitiveness vanishes.
Perfection bores me, in art, in music; most of all, in people. Luckily, perfection is rare.
There are shortcuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them.
Fame always brings loneliness. Success is as ice cold and lonely as the North Pole.
There is a need for heroism in American life today.
Worries are the most stubborn habits in the world. Even after a poor man has won a huge lottery prize, he will still for months wake up in the night with a start, worrying about food and rent.
Marriage always demands the greatest understanding of the art of insincerity possible between two human beings.
I waited just to see you at that kind of peace, I wanted to be beside you, I wanted you to wake up slowly or startle, or just half awaken and turn over or murmur my name. I wanted to watch you forever, or sleep beside you forever, or sleep forever while you woke and watched me, something forever anyway. I wanted to kiss you, rumple your hair, rest three fingertips on your hip bone warm and smooth, wake you that way or hush you back to sleep.
. . . by far the most astonishing guitar player ever has got to be Django Reinhardt. . . Django was quite superhuman, There's nothing normal about him as a person or a player.
Let deeds match words.
Immorality, I know. Immortality, I cannot judge.