You cannot set art off in a corner and hope for it to have vitality, reality, and substance.
There can be nothing exclusive about substantial art. It comes directly out of the heart of the experience of life and thinking about life and living life.
One thing I am certain of is that, if I have done anything good in music, it was, first, because of my father, and second, because of my wife.
It is conceivable that what is unified form to the author or composer may of necessity be formless to his audience.
In 'thinking up' music I usually have some kind of a brass band with wings on it in back of my mind.
If a poet knows more about a horse than he does about heaven, he might better stick to the horse, and some day the horse may carry him into heaven.
If a composer has a nice wife and some nice children, how can he let the children starve on his dissonances?
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