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.

One has a nose. The nose scents and it chooses. An artist is simply a kind of pig snouting truffles.

An audience is an abstraction; it has no taste. It must depend on the only person who has (pardon, should have), the conductor.

Invention presupposes imagination but should not be confused with it.

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

The performance of performance has developed to such an extent in recent years that it challenges the music itself and will soon threaten it with relegation.

A cultural snob is someone who claims to be familiar with the incomprehensible.