In opera, there is always too much singing.
First of all, ladies and gentlemen, you must forget that you are singers.
The colour of my soul is iron-grey and sad bats wheel about the steeple of my dreams.
The century of airplanes has a right to its own music.
Listen to no one's advice except that of the wind in the trees. That can recount the whole history of mankind.
I am more and more convinced that music is not, in essence, a thing which can be cast into a traditional and fixed form. It is made up of colors and rhythms.