Ornette Coleman
The Shape of Jazz to Come

... then there's that sax with its hubbub of Creation, and all those chords written with invisible ink that fortunately disappear into the holy noise of the immediate, in its refusal to line up the lost causes, in its eradication of functions, in the immense pleasure of being a ship at the mercy of the storm and not being afraid to be suspended in the timeless: the pranayama you didn't expect.

Destructured melodic lines often independent of each other: all roads lead to Rome, there you go...

In short, I meant to say that those who break the balls in a heavenly manner are on the right path to the Kingdom of Heaven.

But beware, you might be tempted to say that the avant-garde breaks the balls, that Free jazz breaks the balls, that the racket breaks the balls, that improvisation breaks the balls, that eating spinach breaks the balls, that Jesus Christ breaks the balls.

So be on guard against the danger of not over-exaggerating the divine, even if it breaks the balls, as there's a concrete possibility, due to the law of cause and effect, that the balls might detach and bounce back onto your ass.

Forewarned is forearmed! (A play on words with "SAX" in the original Italian text)

P.S.: Woe betide to do things "seriously", isn't that right, Dizzy?