“John will never forsake the weak and the helpless, nor fail to bring hope to the hopeless. That is what they believe, and so they do not worry. They go on and laugh and sing. Things are bound to come out right tomorrow. That is the secret of Negro song and laughter.”

“The whole thing is quite hopeless, so it's no good worrying about tomorrow. It probably won't come.”

“I feel helpless, hopeless, too low to call out, too weak to think. Impotent tears dribble down.”

“At John Schlesinger's funeral at a synagogue in St John's Wood some years ago the person I stood next to said to me encouragingly, 'Come on, Stephen - you're not singing. Have a go!' 'Believe me, Paul, you don't want me to,' I said. Besides, I was having a much better time listening to him. 'No. Go on!' So I joined in the chorus. 'You're right,' Paul McCartney conceded. 'You can't sing.”

“You must know the story of how the race of ancient days reached the stars, and how they bargained away all the wild half of themselves to do so, so that they no longer cared for the taste of the pale wind, no for love or lust, nor to make new songs nor to sing old ones, nor for any of the other animal things they believed they had brought with them out of the rain forests al the bottom of time--though in fact, so my uncle told me, those things brought them”

“Do you hear the people sing?Singing a song of angry men?It is the music of a peopleWho will not be slaves again!When the beating of your heartEchoes the beating of the drumsThere is a life about to startWhen tomorrow comes!”