What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over, does it?

What use, after all, is man, if not to teach God His lessons?

What was evident was that Mozart was simply transcribing music completely finished in his head. And finished as most music is never finished. Displace one note and there would be diminishment. Displace one phrase and structure would fall. I was staring through the cage of those meticulous ink strokes at Absolute Beauty.

The Normal is the good smile in a child’s eyes - all right. It is also the dead stare in a million adults.

What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over, does it?

It's an extraordinary thing about Mozart is that you never tire of him... he never bores me, and he doesn't... not only bore me, that's too strong a word.

If London is a watercolor, New York is an oil painting.