No One Needs A Word

To This Day I Am Indulgent Toward Orchestras That Are Trying To Lift Themselves In The World, While Critics Are Busy Assuring Them That They Are Not The Vienna Philharmonic And Never Will Be.

Women Always Think That If They Tell A Man Not To Be Pompous That Will Shut Him Up, But I Am An Old Hand At That Game. I Know That If A Man Bides His Time His Moment Will Come.

That's The Nub Of The Thing, You See Seriousness Of Spirit. It Doesn't Mean Heaviness Of Heart, Or A Lack Of Fantasy, But It Does Mean An Awareness Of Influences That Touch Our Lives, Sometimes In Ways That Seem Cruel And Unfeeling, And Sometimes In Ways That Open Up A Glory Which Can Never Be Forgotten.

Oho, Now I Know What You Are. You Are An Advocate Of Useful Knowledge.... Well, Allow Me To Introduce Myself To You As An Advocate Of Ornamental Knowledge. You Like The Mind To Be A Neat Machine, Equipped To Work Efficiently, If Narrowly, And With No Extra Bits Or Useless Parts. I Like The Mind To Be A Dustbin Of Scraps Of Brilliant Fabric, Odd Gems, Worthless But Fascinating Curiosities, Tinsel, Quaint Bits Of Carving, And A Reasonable Amount Of Healthy Dirt. Shake The Machine And It Goes Out Of Order; Shake The Dustbin And It Adjusts Itself Beautifully To Its New Position.

The Egotist Is All Surface; Underneath Is A Pulpy Mess And A Lot Of Self-doubt. But The Egoist May Be Yielding And Even Deferential In Things He Doesn't Consider Important; In Anything That Touches His Core He Is Remorseless.