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'.

Nothing is likely about masterpieces, least of all whether there will be any.

An artist is like a pig snouting truffles.

In order to create there must be a dynamic force, and what force is more potent than love?

Lesser artists borrow, great artists steal.

To listen is an effort, and just to hear is no merit. A duck hears also.

The principle of the endless melody is the perpetual becoming of a music that never had any reason for starting, any more than it has any reason for ending.