If you have a choice of two things and can't decide, take both.

Spirit is Life. It flows thru the death of me endlessly like a river unafraid of becoming the sea.

It is a great feeling to know that from a window I can go to books to cans of beer to past loves. And from these gather enough dream to sneak out a back door.

I remember the people I knew in prison; I was very fortunate to know them - they came from 1910, 1920, 1930.

Standing on a street corner waiting for no one is power.

The lucky thing was that I was Italian; when the other Italians saw me fight back, they came to my defence.

My father took me back home, back to Greenwich Village, and he thought by taking me out of the orphanage he'd be out of the World War too. But no way - they got him anyway. He went in the Navy and then I lived on the streets.