“We of the modern age are a bridge between the old human and the new one. We still have the mentality of the old human – a slave mentality, like the Children of Israel in Egypt: too controlled, full of fear.”

Can we ever really know anyone well? Lets just say we often found ourselves in each others company and neither of us minded.

Between what I think, what I want to say, what I believe I say, what I say, what you want to hear, what you believe to hear, what you hear, what you want to understand.

The best way to renew thought is to go outside the human imagination.

You know people. Most of them don’t hear anything. Those who hear – don’t listen. A few who listen – don’t understand. And those who could understand… they don’t care.

How many husbands were floating between life and death, clinging to their wives in this world? And how may millions and millions of people were there in the world like Charlie who wouldn’t let go of their loved ones when they’re gone?

158 Lewis Avenue between Lafayette and Van Buren, that was back durin days of hangin’ on my bed-stuy block

And once they start to think about the consequences, they almost always calm down. Unless they’re drunk, of course. Or stoned. Or aged between fourteen and twenty-one. Or Glaswegian.

There was no, there was no in between. And when I got to New York all the other musics that’s in the world just came into my head whether it was the classics, jazz, I never knew what jazz was about all, had heard anything about jazz.

The rest of the fraternity is deadwood. Yet, in a curious way, there is not much difference between the product of a good writer and a bad one. They both have to toe the same mark.

Between the mouth and the morsel many things may happen.

I forced a smile. It was the one i’d been practicing all morning. It felt tight at the edges and brittle everywhere in between.

There should be a connection between a man’s hairstyle and what matters to him in life.