1 feel that America is essentially against the artist, that the enemy of America is the artist, because he stands for individuality and creativeness, and that’s wn-American somehow.

All growth is a leap in the dark, a spontaneous, unpremeditated act without benefit of experience.

Americans can eat garbage, provided you sprinkle it liberally with ketchup, mustard, chili sauce, Tabasco sauce, cayenne pepper, or any other condiment which destroys the original flavor of the dish.

Art teaches nothing, except the significance of life.

Artists never thrive in colonies. Ants do. What the budding artist needs is the privilege of wrestling with his problems in solitude—and now and then a piece of red meat.

Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.

Confusion is a word we have invented for an order which is not understood.

Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music - the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself.

Don’t work too hard. Fool around a bit. Be lazy. Don’t worry, Life is —forever.

Even before the music begins there is that bored look on people’s faces. A polite form of self-torture, the concert.