Consonance, says the dictionary, is the combination of several tones into a harmonic unit. Dissonance results from the deranging of this harmony by the addition of tones foreign to it. One must admit that all this is not clear. Ever since it appeared in our vocabulary, the word 'dissonance' has carried with it a certain odor of sinfulness. Let us light our lantern: in textbook language, dissonance is an element of transition, a complex or interval of tones that is not complete in itself and that must be resolved to the ear's satisfaction into a perfect consonance.

It is my conviction that the public always shows itself more honest in its spontaneity than do those who officially set themselves up as judges of works of art.

Music must be listened to; it is not enough to hear it. A duck hears also.

Sins cannot be undone, only forgiven.

The more controlled, limited and tormented art is, the freer it is.

Is it not by love alone that we succeed in penetrating to the very essence of being?

Too many pieces of music finish too long after the end.