Music Is The Heart Of

My Mind And Fingers Have Worked Like The Damned. Homer, The Bible, Plato, Locke, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, Beethoven, Bach, Hummel, Mozart, Weber Are All Around Me. I Study Them. I Devour Them With Fury.

As The Mother Teaches Her Children How To Express Themselves In Their Language, So One Gypsy Musician Teaches The Other. They Have Never Shown Any Need For Notation.

I Carry A Deep Sadness Of The Heart Which Must Now And Then Break Out In Sound.

The First Impulse Of A Great Number Of Civilized Musicians... Is To Protest Ourdeclaration That The Music In Hungary Belongs To The Gypsies.

I Find Little In The Works Of Beethoven, Berlioz, Wagner And Others When They Are Led By A Conductor Who Functions Like A Windmill.