For A Man To Know What He

I Don't Believe In Fate, As In, Which I - As A Catholic, I Think, Sort Of Predestination. But I Certainly Believe In Chance.

I Believe, In My Better Moments, That There Is A Plan And Things Go Not The Way We Want Them To But The Way They Should.

Some People Need A Huge Amount Of Attention, And They Are Worthy Of That Attention, And They're Still Exhausting.

He Believed That Life, True Life, Was Something That Was Stored In Music. True Life Was Kept Safe In The Lines Of Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin While You Went Out In The World And Met The Obligations Required Of You. Certainly He Knew (though Did Not Completely Understand) That Opera Wasn't For Everyone, But For Everyone He Hoped There Was Something. The Records He Cherished, The Rare Opportunities To See A Live Performance, Those Were The Marks By Which He Gauged His Ability To Love.

If A Person Has Never Given Writing A Try, They Assume That A Brilliant Idea Is Hard To Come By. But Really, Even If It Takes Some Digging, Ideas Are Out There. Just Open Your Eyes And Look At The World. Writing The Ideas Down, It Turns Out, Is The Real Trick.