For us artists there waits the joyous compromise through art with all that wounded or defeated us in daily life; in this way, not to evade destiny, as the ordinary people try to do, but to fulfil it in its true potential - the imagination.
The richest love is that which submits to the arbitration of time.
Music is only love looking for words.
The memory of man is as old as misfortune
Prohibitions create the desire they were intended to cure.
Whatever the heart desires, it purchases at the cost of soul