It’s like an act of murder; you play with intent to commit something.
What is the use being a big man if you are wrong?
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
If you find the mirror of the heart dull, the rust has not been cleared from its face.
I know that the twelve notes in each octave and the variety of rhythm offer me opportunities that all of human genius will never exhaust.
A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.
It’s beautiful, disturbing, moving, melancholy and so very very sad, each frame filled with the strange innocent wisdom of childhood.
He not busy being born is busy dying.
The sinews of war are infinite money.
The structure of a play is always the story of how the birds came home to roost.