I was not naturally talented. I didn't sing, dance or act, though working around that minor detail made me inventive.

I couldn't see his face, because the light came in from behind him and he was in shadow, and he said, "I am Picasso." And I said, "Well, so what?

To have someone play off and be with a band is more pleasurable.

I'm for the Wall Street Occupiers. But will they accept me when they find out I sell packaged mortgage default instruments to children?

. . . Now you see . . . they' re not fit for humans . . ." "Put them on me.

Art as an aesthetic principle was supported by thousands of years of discernment and psychic rewards, but art as a commodity was held up by air. The loss of confidence that affected banks and financial instruments was not affecting cherubs, cupids and flattened popes. The objects hadn't changed: what was there before was there after. But a vacancy was created with the clamoring crowds deserted and retrenched.

Ah, yes. I remember my first beer.