Newness Hath An Evanescent Beauty.

Every Period Of Time Is A Sphinx That Throws Itself Into The Abyss As Soon As Its Riddle Has Been Solved.

The Artist Is The Child In The Popular Fable, Every One Of Whose Tears Was A Pearl.

My Heart Resembles The Ocean; Has Storm, And Ebb And Flow; And Many A Beautiful Pearl Lies Hid In Its Depths Below.

Nothing Is More Futile Than Theorizing About Music. No Doubt There Are Laws, Mathematically Strict Laws, But These Laws Are Not Music; They Are Only Its Conditions? The Essence Of Music Is Revelation.

Whether A Revolution Succeeds Or Fails People Of Great Hearts Will Always Be Sacrificed To It.