The colour of my soul is iron-grey and sad bats wheel about the steeple of my dreams.
[on Richard Wagner] A beautiful sunset that was mistaken for a dawn.
Some people wish above all to conform to the rules, I wish only to render what I can hear.
Anyone who calls my music "impressionist" is an imbecile.
The trouble with the opera is there's always to much singing.
The century of aeroplanes deserves its own music. As there are no precedents, I must create anew.