“All art is a lie, insofar as truth is defined by the Supreme Court. After all, Picasso's goat isn't a goat. Is the artist a liar, or simply one for whom even a fact is not a fact?”

When people say “I’ve stopped living” do they mean that they’re numb with grief? In dire health? Having menopause? Continually drugged or drunk? But these conditions are part of living, they just don’t revolve around love affairs or money. What’s more, all artists “stop living” in order to comment on living. Art is a suspension of life. You can’t write a poem about tears in your eyes with tears in your eyes, the salt water would smudge the ink.

In New York I was already aware of both the lady and her attributes, and on leaving for France in the spring of 1949 was determined to know her. I arrived like any other Francophile tourist with intentions of spending one summer. But from the outset that insular nation contradictorally greeted me with open arms: within a month I knew and—so much more important!—was known by most of the musical milieu I have frequented since.