I'm No Longer Quite Sure

What [louis Armstrong] Does Is Real, And True, And Honest, And Simple, And Even Noble. Every Time This Man Puts His Trumpet To His Lips, Even If Only To Practice Three Notes, He Does It With His Whole Soul.

In The Olden Days, Everybody Sang. You Were Expected To Sing As Well As Talk. It Was A Mark Of The Cultured Man To Sing.

This Must Be The Mission Of Every Man Of Goodwill: To Insist, Unflaggingly, At Risk Of Becoming A Repetitive Bore, But To Insist On The Achievement Of A World In Which The Mind Will Have Triumphed Over Violence.

I Think It Is Time We Learned The Lesson Of Our Century: That The Progress Of The Human Spirit Must Keep Pace With Technological And Scientific Progress, Or That Spirit Will Die. It Is Incumbent On Our Educators To Remember This; And Music Is At The Top Of The Spiritual Must List. When The Study Of The Arts Leads To The Adoration Of The Formula (heaven Forbid), We Shall Be Lost. But As Long As We Insist On Maintaining Artistic Vitality, We Are Able To Hope In Man

To Be A Success As A Broadway Composer, You Must Be Jewish Or Gay. I'm Both.