I dreamed that I was young and smart, and it was not a waste. I dreamed that there was a point of life, and to the human race.

Here comes Jesse Jackson, he talks of common ground. Does that common ground include me, or is it just a sound?

You can't ask me to explain the lyrics because I won't do it.

I'd harbored hopes that the intelligence that once inhabited novels or films would ingest rock. I was, perhaps, wrong.

I don't believe in dressing up reality. I don't believe in using makeup to make things look smoother.

Psychologically, it's better that I think that I'm dirt.

When I was in college, I had a jazz radio show. I called it 'Excursion on a Wobbly Rail,' after a Cecil Taylor song. I used to run around the Village following Ornette Coleman wherever he played.