We really were a very musical family. In spite of the fact that we were so poor when I was a youngster that supper was often just a bowl of bread and milk, Father somehow managed to squeeze out enough pennies to buy us a small pump organ, and I just loved this instrument too.

I knew nothing of the life of a real musician, of course, but somehow I seemed to see myself standing in front of great crowds of people, playing my accordion.

My first appearance, the first time I try anything, invariably is not very successful. I tend to grow slowly, but solidly.

Over and over I marvel at the blessings of my life: Each year has grown better than the last.

One time I introduced my orchestra as the Shampoo Music Makers instead of the Champagne Music Makers.

I just wrote a book, but don't go out and buy it yet, because I don't think it's finished yet.

I realized some of the pitfalls of being well-known; it was nice if you were successful, but it made it just that much harder to take when you failed.