We Only Hear What We Listen For.

When I Hear What We Call Music, It Seems To Me That Someone Is Talking. And Talking About His Feelings, Or About His Ideas Of Relationships. But When I Hear Traffic, The Sound Of Traffic - Here On Sixth Avenue, For Instance - I Don’t Have The Feeling That Anyone Is Talking. I Have The Feeling That Sound Is Acting. And I Love The Activity Of Sound... I Don’t Need Sound To Talk To Me.

An Artist Conscientiously Moves In A Direction Which For Some Good Reason He Takes, Putting One Work In Front Of The Other With The Hope He'll Arrive Before Death Overtakes Him.

The World Is Teeming; Anything Can Happen.

Combine Nursing Homes With Nursery Schools. Bring Very Old And Very Young Together: They Interest One Another.

I Certainly Had No Feeling For Harmony, And Schoenberg Thought That That Would Make It Impossible For Me To Write Music. He Said, 'you'll Come To A Wall You Won't Be Able To Get Through.' So I Said, 'i'll Beat My Head Against That Wall.'