The art of not playing in tempo--one has to learn it. And the art of not playing what is written on the printed paper.
The love of one's country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?
You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.
As long as one can admire and love, then one is young forever.
We ought to think that we are one of the leaves of a tree, and the tree is all humanity. We cannot live without the others, without the tree.
The heart of the melody can never be put down on paper.