There Is No Art Without Intention.

Gray Skies Are Just Clouds Passing Over.

Music, Of Course, Is What I Hear And Something That I More Or Less Live By. It's Not An Occupation Or Profession, It's A Compulsion.

Yet, Every Time God's Children Have Thrown Away Fear In Pursuit Of Honesty-trying To Communicate Themselves, Understood Or Not, Miracles Have Happened.

How Can Anyone Expect To Be Understood Unless He Presents His Thoughts With Complete Honesty? This Situation Is Unfair Because It Asks Too Much Of The World. In Effect, We Say, ' I Don't Dare Show You What I Am Because I Don't Trust You For A Minute But Please Love Me Anyway Because I So Need You To. And, Of Course, If You Don't Love Me Anyway, You're A Dirty Dog, Just As I Suspected, So I Was Right In The First Place.' Yet, Every Time God's Children Have Thrown Away Fear In Pursuit Of Honesty-trying To Communicate Themselves, Understood Or Not, Miracles Have Happened.

Billy Strayhorn Was My Right Arm, My Left Arm, All The Eyes In The Back Of My Head, My Brainwaves In His Head, And His In Mine.