The Trouble With The Opera Is There's

The Century Of Airplanes Has A Right To Its Own Music.

How Much Has To Be Explored And Discarded Before Reaching The Naked Flesh Of Feeling.

The Century Of Aeroplanes Deserves Its Own Music. As There Are No Precedents, I Must Create Anew.

I Have A Horror Of Sentimentality, And I Cannot Forget That Its Name Is Saint-saëns.

He Was The Incomparable Painter Of Mystery, Silence, And The Infinite, Of The Passing Cloud, And The Sunlit Shimmer Of The Waves-subleties Which None Before Him Had Been Capable Of Suggesting.