Look out! Be on your guard, because alone of all the arts, music moves all around you.
An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.
He has the manner of a giant with the look of a child, a lazy activeness, a mad wisdom, a solitude encompassing the world.
Beauty makes one lose one's head. Poetry is born of this decapitation
Every day in the mirror I watch death at work.
Whatever the public blames you for, cultivate it; it is yourself.