Music helps us understand where we have come from but, more importantly, what has happened to us.

I tried to convey to the boy how people's lives are often altered by curved lines read slowly from paper, sand, or stone.

For some people, life is the process of knocking through walls to get out. For others, it is the building of walls.

Perhaps we were each allotted only a certain amount of love - enough for only an initial meeting - a serendipitous clumsiness. When it leaves to find others, the difficulty begins because we are faced with our humanness, our past, our very being.

Athens is the birthplace of modern tragedy. In the Greek tragic plays, the tableau of the characters would become a statue, like the statue of Oedipus reaching up to the Gods with blood spilling out of his eyes. I love the way the Greeks would immortalize experience. Things that all of us feel.

When Bach died some of his children sold his scores to the butcher they had decided the paper was more useful for wrapping meat. In a small village in Germany a father brought home a limp goose wrapped in paper that was covered with strange and beautiful symbols.

The most significant conversations of our lives occur in silence.