I Wish To Sing Of My Interior

The Attraction Of The Virtuoso For The Public Is Very Like That Of The Circus For The Crowd. There Is Always The Hope That Something Dangerous May Happen.

The Music I Desire Must Be Supple Enough To Adapt Itself To The Lyrical Effusions Of The Soul And The Fantasy Of Dreams.

Listen To No One's Advice Except That Of The Wind In The Trees. That Can Recount The Whole History Of Mankind.

On Those Who Overanalyze His Music: When You Tear The Wings Off A Butterfly, It Is No Longer A Butterfly

People Come To Music To Seek Oblivion: Is That Not Also A Form Of Deception?