I remember being handed a score composed by Mozart at the age of eleven. What could I say? I felt like de Kooning, who was asked to comment on a certain abstract painting, and answered in the negative. He was then told it was the work of a celebrated monkey. 'That's different. For a monkey, it's terrific'.

We can neither put back the clock nor slow down our forward speed, and as we are already flying pilotless, on instrument controls, it is even too late to ask where we are going.

Silence will save me from being wrong (and foolish), but it will also deprive me of the possibility of being right.

Music's exclusive function is to structure the flow of time and keep order in it.

Silence, which will save from shame, will also deprive me of fame.

Why is it that whenever I hear a piece of music I don't like, it's always by Villa Lobos?

All you have to do is close your eyes and wait for the symbols.