It's unbelievable the primitive feelings that are aroused by rapid change.

Life is like a great jazz riff. You sense the end the very moment you were wanting it to go on forever.

Sundays are terrible because it is clear that there is no one in charge of the world. And this knowledge leave you drifting around, grappling with unfulfilled expectations and vague yearnings.

You can always trust information given you by people who are crazy; they have an access to truth not available through regular channels.

The moon develops the imagination, as chemicals develop photographic images.

Inner resources are like natural resources; they both dry up eventually when the demands on them are heavy.

Ghetto humor is the social twin of fantasy; together they sustain the powerless, who accomplish miracles through illusion.