Out Of The Work Comes The Work.

I Never Had A Hat, Never Wore One, But Recently Was Given A Brown Suede Duck-hunting Hat. The Moment I Put It On I Realized I Was Starved For A Hat. I Kept It Warm By Putting It On My Head. I Made Plans To Wear It Especially When I Was Going To Do Any Thinking. Somewhere In Virginia, I Lost My Hat.

We Need Not Destroy The Past. It Is Gone.

One Shouldn't Go To The Woods Looking For Something, But Rather To See What Is There.

We Are Living In A Period In Which Many People Have Changed Their Mind About What The Use Of Music Is Or Could Be For Them. Something That Doesn't Speak Or Talk Like A Human Being, That Doesn't Know Its Definition In The Dictionary Or Its Theory In The Schools, That Expresses Itself Simply By The Fact Of Its Vibrations. People Paying Attention To Vibratory Activity, Not In Reaction To A Fixed Ideal Performance, But Each Time Attentively To How It Happens To Be This Time, Not Necessarily Two Times The Same. A Music That Transports The Listener To The Moment Where He Is.

In The Dark, All Cats Are Black.