Birth, and copulation, and death; that's all the facts when you come to brass tacks.
The last thing one discovers in composing a work is what to put first.
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten, And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
We should not confuse information with knowledge.
Words move, music moves Only in time; but that which is only living Can only die. Words, after speech, reach Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern, Can words or music reach The stillness.
In a world of fugitives the one who stays home will seem to be running away