I belong to the scarce minority of artists who work in good faith, around whom the phenomenal world vanishes, as it happens to the mystics when they give themselves to prayer.

Sometimes one is without the pleasure of playing. But when the silence of the audience is perfect, we recover that.

My prayer to the Lord every day, is this-I have been a great sinner. I do not deserve Heaven. Let me stay here.

It is always about discovering what, hidden, does not lie on the paper.

It is impossible to feign mastery of an instrument, however skillful the impostor may be.

The guitar is a small orchestra. It is polyphonic. Every string is a different color, a different voice.

The piano is a monster that screams when you touch its teeth.