O único bar do mundo com chafariz à porta - José Cardoso Pires a propósito do bar Procópio em Lisboa
José Cardoso Pires

And saving the best for last, as explained by Cliff Clavin, of Cheers. One afternoon at Cheers, Cliff Clavin was explaining the Buffalo Theory to his buddy Norm. Here's how it went: "Well ya see, Norm, it's like this. A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster being.

I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day
Frank Sinatra

O Jazz nasceu à beira de um abismo. O corpo em situação extrema a descobrir a alma. Não a alma pendurada numa parede do museu teológico, mas a psique aprisionada nas masmorras da santa sé da moral que se liberta no grito que o homem lança no limiar do abismo. O grito é o orgasmo: o Jazz. É neste sentido que se pode falar de um erotismo do Jazz: a escalada de psique para eros. Escalada, apenas. Nunca o ponto de repouso da chegada. Por isso o Jazz é tensão, estirada, dor agudíssima, os ingredientes que elaboram o orgasmo em suspensão. Por isso o Jazz não é terminal, recusa-se a um fim, continua mesmo quando acaba. É fome de amor que se alimenta da insatisfação. Por isso no Jazz se abre o leque dos sons com que a lost generation ventilou o seu rosto afogueado pelo último Verão do mundo. Poesia sem letras, magia sem esperança, assembleia de bacantes na festa do descobridor da vinha, limando as unhas para arrancar olhos aos usurpadores do sonho. Porque no Jazz o que importa, acima de tudo, é não acordar!
Natália Correia

Wynton imitates other people's styles too well. You can't learn to imitate everyone else without a real deficit. I've never heard anything Wynton played sound like it meant anything at all. Wynton has no voice and no presence. His music sounds like a talented high-school trumpet player to me. He plays things really, really, really badly that you cannot screw up unless you are a bad player. I've felt embarrassed listening to him, and I'm white. Behind his humble speech, there is an incredible arrogance. And for a great black player who talks about the blues - I've never heard Wynton play the blues convincingly, and I'd challenge him to a blues standoff any time. He's jazzy the same way someone who drives a BMW is sporty
Keith Jarrett

Jazz is not dead - it just smells funny
Frank Zappa