I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself what a wonderful world. I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself what a wonderful world

When you're with another tea smoker it makes you feel a special kinship.

Love is talkative passion.

As a youngster in the little orphanage home in New Orleans, I was the bugler of the institution. When I got to be around 13 or 14 years old, they took me off the bugle and put me in the little brass band.

If you have to ask what jazz is, you'll never know.

We don't play slow and we don't play fast, we play half fast

All them weird chords which don't mean a thing...you got no melody to remember, and no beat to dance to