There Is Nothing More Musical Than A

To Complete A Work Is Just Like Being Present At The Death Of Someone You Love.

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

I Wish To Sing Of My Interior Visions With The Naive Candour Of A Child.

The Sound Of The Sea, The Curve Of A Horizon, Wind In Leaves, The Cry Of A Bird Leave Manifold Impression In Us. And Suddenly, Without Our Wishing It At All, One Of These Memories Spills From Us And Finds Expression In Musical Language...i Want To Sing My Interior Landscape With The Simple Artlessness Of A Child.

Music Is The Space Between The Notes.