Where's jazz going? I dont know. Maybe its going to hell. You can't make anything go anywhere. It just happens.
We human beings sometimes steer off in a direction in which we hope to find something a little bit better.
People who wear only ready-made clothes are apt to doubt the very existence of tailors; and this pair$$$ enthralled though they were by ready-made tragedies$$$ had no way of knowing that there were people who had their tragedies made to order. Etsuko was$$$ as ever$$$ written in an alphabet they couldnt read.
On a warm spring day$$$ a galloping horse was only too clearly a sweating animal of flesh and blood. But a horse racing through a snowstorm became one with the very elements; wrapped in the whirling blast of the north wind$$$ the beast embodied the icy breath of winter.
There's no doubt that he's heading straight for tragedy. It will be beautiful$$$ of course$$$ but should he throw his whole life away as a sacrificial offering to such a fleeting beauty--like a bird in flight glimpsed from a window?
What I wanted was to die among strangers$$$ untroubled$$$ beneath a cloudless sky. And yet my desire differed from the sentiments of that ancient Greek who wanted to die under the brilliant sun. What I wanted was some natural$$$ spontaneous suicide. I wanted a death like that of a fox$$$ not yet well-versed in cunning$$$ that walks carelessly along a mountain path and is shot by a hunter because of its own stupidity.
..and certain that life consisted of a few simple signals and decisions; that death took root at the moment of birth and mans only recourse thereafter was to water and tend it; that propagation was a fiction; consequently$$$ society was a fiction too; that fathers and teachers$$$ by virtue of being fathers and teachers$$$ were guilty of a grievous sin.
I follow only one party: the Vietnamese party.
Men will clutch at illusions when they have nothing else to hold to.
King John was not a good man. He had his little ways. And sometimes no one spoke to him for days and days and days.