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

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

Art is the most beautiful deception of all! And although people try to incorporate the everyday events of life in it, we must hope that it will remain a deception lest it become a utilitarian thing, sad as a factory.

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

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

Listen to no one's advice except that of the wind in the trees. That can recount the whole history of mankind.

People come to music to seek oblivion: is that not also a form of deception?