The Seasons Are What A

To Be Alive, To Able To See, To Walk...it's All A Miracle. I Have Adapted The Technique Of Living Life From Miracle To Miracle.

I'm A Free Person; I Feel Terribly Free. They Could Put Me In Chains And I Still Would Be Free Because My Thoughts Would Be Mine - And That's All I Want To Have.

My Father, Good Or Bad, Mistakes Or No, Had A Direct Line From His Heart To The Music To The People, To The Audience. He Played With Logic And His Own Inner Truth.

Sometimes When I Sit Down To Practice And There Is No One Else In The Room, I Have To Stifle An Impulse To Ring For The Elevator Man And Offer Him Money To Come In And Hear Me.

...stories About [the German Composer Johannes] Brahms's Rudeness And Wit Amused Me In Particular. For Instance, I Loved The One About How A Great Wine Connoisseur Invited The Composer To Dinner. 'this Is The Brahms Of My Cellar,' He Said To His Guests, Producing A Dust-covered Bottle And Pouring Some Into The Master's Glass. Brahms Looked First At The Color Of The Wine, Then Sniffed Its Bouquet, Finally Took A Sip, And Put The Glass Down Without Saying A Word. 'don't You Like It?' Asked The Host. 'hmm,' Brahms Muttered. 'better Bring Your Beethoven!'