I opened an office in Terre Haute, established eight of them, and became one of the eight county agents.

Every once in a while, someone will mail me a single popcorn kernel that didn't pop. I'll get out a fresh kernel, tape it to a piece of paper and mail it back to them.

Most of the competition was into bulk popcorn because of the major increases in the Drive-In Theatre Outlets.

We made more money feeding molasses, urea, and corn cobs to cattle than we ever did feeding dent corn.

We dried continuously day and night. We had no efficient way to do it, so we built this new popcorn plant.

I had popcorn all over the place, so I decided I might as well be in the Processing Business.

It was necessary to have an even depth of corn on the top compared to the sides, so the air would not take the easiest route and not evenly dry the stored corn.

In the Depression we had to divert corn acreage.

I moved to Princeton, Indiana, and became a professional Farm Manager for that Princeton Farms.

The cobs were delivered to a big pile. We were one of the first to feed corn cobs to cattle.

It proved easier to buy the farm to get the mineral rights than to buy the coal rights alone.

We spend our time searching for security and hate it when we get it.

Even if someone thinks there's a mistake I've made on the piano, to me it's not a mistake; it's how it's meant to be.

Most of the utopian community ideas actually are religious. They're based more on the idea of the monastery than the commune.

Your mind is filled with thoughts and desires. Your moods shift constantly. You are not sure what it is you want, it changes from moment to moment; there is little or no continuity in your life.

It took most people a lifetime to join the human race.

When the music is physically demanding, I want to make sure that the effort involved is put across to the audience through physical gesture.

Belafonte sent his people to pick me up and I went back and shook his hand, then went back to my little flat. I was very happy to have met a president of the United States - little me!

We write a subscript to our mortality. We make our lives tiny diamonds in the cosmic sands.

You know it doesn’t work that way, T. I have to be touching the body or something that belonged to the victim. Photos only give me a paper cut…and the willies. (Simone)

People have no idea what one saint can do: for sanctity is stronger than the whole of hell.