Music Is In The Space Between The

If I Am Not Making Music, I Have No Reason For Existing.

Life Is The Space Between Our Things.

On Those Who Overanalyze His Music: When You Tear The Wings Off A Butterfly, It Is No Longer A Butterfly

The Trouble With The Opera Is There's Always To Much Singing.

The Colour Of My Soul Is Iron-grey And Sad Bats Wheel About The Steeple Of My Dreams.