One day a whole damn song fell into place in my head.

Lust may be in the heart, though it be not seen by others; as guests may be in the house, though they look not out at the windows.

And when you're poor, you grow up fast.

You can be up to your boobies in white satin, with gardenias in your hair and no sugar cane for miles, but you can still be working on a plantation.

Singing songs like 'The Man I Love' or 'Porgy' is no more work than sitting down and eating Chinese roast duck, and I love roast duck.

If you copy, it means you're working without any real feeling. No two people on earth are alike, and it's got to be that way in music or it isn't music.

The difficult I'll do right now. The impossible will take a little while.