This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around.

Maybe it's naïve, but I would love to believe that once you grow to love some aspect of a culture-its music, for instance -you can never again think of the people of that culture as less than yourself. I would like to believe that if I am deeply moved by a song originating from some place other than my own homeland, then I have in some way shared an experience with the people of that culture. I have been pleasantly contaminated. I can identify in some small way with it and its people.

I'm no Lance Armstrong, but I do use a bike to get from place to place in Manhattan, a little bit of Brooklyn.

One knew in advance that life in New York would not be easy‚ but there were cheap rents in cold-water lofts without heat‚ and the excitement of being here made up for those hardships. I didn't move to New York to make a fortune.

Life tends to be an accumulation of a lot of mundane decisions, which often gets ignored.

It didn't even occur to me that I'm the last person in the world who should play salsa or Brazilian music.

Another Elvis will not come along. He got wasted, but it's alright.