The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good.
“Back when I lived in Brooklyn, I'd sometimes take the Q train all the way out to Coney Island and back, and work on my laptop. There's something about pushy New Yorkers looking over your shoulder that really makes you produce sentences.”
“Esquire, in a July, 1957 issue, has a photograph of me playing the French horn at the Five Spot.”