We Are Not Free To Walk On

The Art Of Interpretation Is Not To Play What Is Written.

The Cello Is Like A Beautiful Woman Who Has Not Grown Older, But Younger With Time, More Slender, More Supple, More Graceful.

Beauty Is All About Us, But How Many Are Blind! They Look At The Wonder Of This Earth And Seem To See Nothing. People Move Hectically But Give Little Thought To Where They Are Going. They Seek Excitement ... As If They Were Lost And Desperate.

The Heart Of The Melody Can Never Be Put Down On Paper.

The Child Must Know That He Is A Miracle, That Since The Beginning Of The World There Hasn't Been, And Until The End Of The World There Will Not Be, Another Child Like Him.