Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.Grasp it; sense it - tremulous and tender.Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light - and listen to the music of the night !

No more memories, no more silent tears. No more gazing across the wasted years. Help me say goodbye.

Two years ago I hadn't even thought of the Woman in White, and I was doing a television show and I said I hadn't found a story and the next day somebody rang me and said have you ever thought of the Woman in White.

As a composer at a point where I can absolutely pick and choose what I want to do, I don't want to write about anybody I don't care about.

I often think of random melodies. And I pretty much hear in my head what I want to do with the orchestra as I'm writing on the piano.

The regrets in the theatre have always been the shows that you know ought to have worked but for one reason or another haven't.

And it sort of jogged a memory of something that I read at school and I read it, and I thought God this is it. So you never can tell. I could find something this afternoon.