Every Man Prays In His Own Language.

I Merely Took The Energy It Takes To Pout And Wrote Some Blues.

The Word [jazz] Never Lost Its Association With Those New Orleans Bordellos. In The 1920s I Used To Try To Convince Fletcher Henderson That We Ought To Call What We Were Doing 'negro Music'. But It's Too Late For That Now.

Everyone Prays In Their Own Language, And There Is No Language That God Does Not Understand.

If Anybody Was Mr. Jazz It Was Louis Armstrong. He Was The Epitome Of Jazz And Always Will Be. He Is What I Call An American Standard, An American Original. ... I Merely Took The Energy It Takes To Pout And Wrote Some Blues. ... I Don't Need Time, I Need A Deadline. ...there Are Two Kinds Of Music. Good Music, And The Other Kind. ... Music Is My Mistress, And She Plays Second Fiddle To No One.

Create, And Be True To Yourself, And Depend Only On Your Own Good Taste.