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How does a newness come into the world? How is it born? Of what fusions, translations, conjoinings is it made? How does it survive, extreme and dangerous as it is? What compromises, what deals, what betrayals of its secret nature must it make to stave off the wrecking crew, the exterminating angel, the guillotine? Is birth always a fall? Do angels have wings?
Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, your wisdom. If you donít live it, it wonít come out of your horn. They teach you thereís a boundary line to music. But, man, thereís no boundary line to art.
There's one hole in every revolution, large or small. And it's one word long--people. No matter how big the idea they all stand under, people are small and weak and cheap and fightened. It's people that kill every revolution.
Change is the nature of the universe.
I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
Take this sorrow to thy heart, and make it a part of thee, and it shall nourish thee till thou art strong again.
The heart is forever inexperienced.
Who's the bigger liars, men or women? ... Men lie the most, women tell the biggest lies.
It is terrible and unbearable to an artist to be encouraged to do, to be applauded for doing, his second best. Throughout the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me leave to do my utmost!
To go into acting is like asking for admission to an insane asylum. Anyone may apply, but only the certifiably insane are admitted.
