B. B. King

When I sing, I play in my mind; the minute I stop singing orally, I start to sing by playing Lucille.

Water from the white fountain didn’t taste any better than from the black fountain.

I could see that Bukka was born to be a bluesman, and I wondered if the same was true of me. I worried that I didn’t have his talent – or the talent of someone like Blind Lemon or T-Bone. I felt something beautiful inside Bukka’s soul. Even if I didn’t follow his style, I was moved by his sincerity. He loved telling stories, and used his blues to tell them. His blues was the book of his life. He sang about his rough times and fast time and loving times and angry times. He’d entertain at a party for two hundred people with the same enthusiasm as a party for twenty. Bukka gave it his all. His music had a consistency I admired. Like all the great bluesmen, he said, I am what I am. I wondered if I could be that steady and strong.

I like jazz, rock n’ roll, some hip hop – I can’t think of any music I don’t like.

I learned another thing from the hurt my cousin gave me – never to give that kind of hurt to anyone else. My revenge was to change a bad feeling into a good one. If I’m working with you and I sense you’re feeling a little insecure, I try to make you feel great. That’s how I get rid of my old hurt. If I don’t do that, my hurt grows and makes me mean and vengeful. But if hurt can change to kindness – that’s something Mama showed me – the world becomes a little less cruel.

I don’t like anybody to be angry with me. I’d rather have friends.

Just allow your feelings to go with the music and you’ll find yourself carried along by it fairly quickly.

Oh, my darling, it’s incredible, that someone so unforgettable should think I am unforgettable, too.

The Blues is never old.

I don’t like recording studios – except my own, which is just a little room above the garage.

When I heard T-Bone, I flat out lost my mind.

My music had roots which I’d dug up from my own childhood, musical roots buried in the darkest soil.

That’s the beauty of music. They can’t take it from you.

Playing gives me as much good feeling now as it did when I was a bitty kid.

You will never know what the meaning of Jazz is if ask what it means.

There are four qualities essential to a great jazzman. They are taste, courage, individuality, and irreverence. These are the qualities I want to retain in my music.

Jazz can only enhance the Classical side and Classical can only enhance the Jazz side.

If you can’t play the blues, you might as well hang it up.

They’re not particular about whether you’re playing a flatted fifth or a ruptured 129th as long as they can dance to it.

The human being receives the pleasure from music, not from the argument over what it is.

When you listen to someone improvise, the notes that are played are only half the story.