There is no theory. You merely have to listen. Pleasure is the law.

The century of aeroplanes deserves its own music. As there are no precedents, I must create anew.

I have a horror of sentimentality, and I cannot forget that its name is Saint-Saëns.

The colour of my soul is iron-grey and sad bats wheel about the steeple of my dreams.

Music is the space between the notes.

He was the incomparable painter of mystery, silence, and the infinite, of the passing cloud, and the sunlit shimmer of the waves-subleties which none before him had been capable of suggesting.

There is no theory. You have only to listen. Pleasure is the law. I love music passionately. And because l love it, I try to free it from barren traditions that stifle it. It is a free art gushing forth, an open-air art boundless as the elements, the wind, the sky, the sea. It must never be shut in and become an academic art.