Music is only love looking for words.
Music was invented to confirm human loneliness.
Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged.
No one can go on being a rebel too long without turning into an autocrat.
I had become, with the approach of night, once more aware of loneliness and time - those two companions without whom no journey can yield us anything.
Truth disappears with the telling of it.