He turned back to me and half-leaned, half-sat, on the kitchen table. ‘Everything takes time,’ he said, ‘and—well, yes, sure, I can make a living at it. But what I don’t seem to be able to make you understand is that it’s the only thing I want to do.’
‘Well, Sonny’ I said gently, ‘you know people can’t always do exactly what they want to do—’
‘No, I don’t know that,’ said Sonny, surprising me. ‘I think people ought to do what they want to do. What else are they alive for?’ [emphasis added]