 Life is like a trumpet - if you don't put anything into it, you don't get anything out of it. |
| Whenever I heard the song of a bird and the answering call of its mate, I could visualize the notes in scale, all built up within my consciousness as a natural symphony. |
| You've got to appreciate the things that come from the art of the Negro and from the heart of the man farthest down. |
| I knew the whistle of each of the river boats on the Tennessee. |
| Saving was slow and painful. |
| Life is something like a trumpet. If you don't put anything in, you won't get anything out. |
| The blues - the sound of a sinner on revival day. |
| I think America concedes that true American music has sprung from the Negro. |
| Nature was my kindergarten. |
| With a guitar I would be able to express the things I felt in sounds. |
| Setting my mind on a musical instrument was like falling in love. All the world seemed bright and changed. |
| The name of my ailment was longing, and it was not cured till I finally went to the department store and counted out the money in small coins before the dismayed clerk. When I came to the house, I held up the instrument before the eyes of the astonished household. |
| My big ears indicated a talent for music. This thrilled me. |
