I had everything I'd hoped for, but I wasn't being myself. So I decided to be honest about who I was. It was strange: The people who loved me for being funny suddenly didn't like me for being... me.
“Esquire, in a July, 1957 issue, has a photograph of me playing the French horn at the Five Spot.”
“I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.”