My father hated rock and roll - hated it. My first real argument with my father was over the Rolling Stones. And he never, ever liked rock and roll. He just liked me.
In fact, I thought my calling was to be a painter.
New York is the thing that seduced me.
I could have a job as a teacher because I like talking in front of people.
I've written a lot of prose. I just haven't published it.
Wisdom was a teapot, pouring from above. Desolation angels, served it up with love.