A Real Building Is One On Which

Compose In The Sequence Of The Musical Phrase, Not In Sequence Of A Metronome.

I Have Tried To Write Paradise Do Not Move Let The Wind Speak That Is Paradise. Let The Gods Forgive What I Have Made Let Those I Love Try To Forgive What I Have Made.

What Counts Is The Cultural Level

The Age Demanded An Image Of Its Accelerated Grimace, Something For The Modern Stage, Not, At Any Rate, An Attic Grace.

And The Days Are Not Full Enough And The Nights Are Not Full Enough And Life Slips By Like A Field Mouse Not Shaking The Grass