Music is...a form of remembering, a return to the seasons of the heart long gone.

I know of no better definition of love than the one given by Proust - Love is space and time measured by the heart.

Melody is a form of remembrance. It must have a quality of inevitability in our ears.

Love is born of faith, lives on hope, and dies of charity.

Any subject is good for opera if the composer feels it so intently he must sing it out.

A man only becomes wise when he begins to calculate the approximate depth of his ignorance.

Waiting and hoping are the whole of life, and as soon as a dream is realized it is destroyed.