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.

There is nothing more musical than a sunset.

Music is the expression of the movement of the waters, the play of curves described by changing breezes.

Some people wish above all to conform to the rules, I wish only to render what I can hear.

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.

I wish to sing of my interior visions with the naive candour of a child.

Anyone who calls my music "impressionist" is an imbecile.