A Man Only Becomes Wise When He

Waiting And Hoping Are The Whole Of Life, And As Soon As A Dream Is Realized It Is Destroyed.

Any Subject Is Good For Opera If The Composer Feels It So Intently He Must Sing It Out.

Love, Which, In Concert With Abstinence, Established Faith, And Which, Along With Patience, Builds Up Chastity, Is Like The Columns That Sustain The Four Corners Of A House. For It Was That Same Love Which Planted A Glorious Garden Redolent With Precious Herbs And Noble Flowers-roses And Lilies-which Breathed Forth A Wondrous Fragrance, That Garden On Which The True Solomon Was Accustomed To Feast His Eyes.

Music Is...a Form Of Remembering, A Return To The Seasons Of The Heart Long Gone.

Melody Is A Form Of Remembrance. It Must Have A Quality Of Inevitability In Our Ears.