Within each individual young person you meet, you have the same fields to plough. The trick is just to wake them up, to sharpen their ears for what's already there in the music.

All music has to speak in some form or other.

With creative people, truly new horizons open up.

In Romanticism, the main determinant is the mood, the atmosphere. And in that regard, you could also describe Schubert as a Romantic.

The future? Like unwritten books and unborn children, you don't talk about it.

Unfortunately, it happens all too seldom that you really disappear behind a work, that you are no longer audible as an interpreter.

Many, many composers have only found their way to a certain form, through familiarizing themselves with texts.

Toward the end of his life, one can sense that he was no longer thinking his way into the minds of others, causing them to speak on his behalf, but that he was now speaking for himself.

The composition of a single melody is born out of a bit of text, perhaps the first line, but it can also be the entire strophe; it can even be the poem's overall form.

But the thing that will always occupy me the most is music.

I came together with younger musicians and tried to pass on my own experiences. In the process, I always tried to maintain my curiosity and spontaneity.

Libraries were full of ideas—perhaps the most dangerous and powerful of all weapons.

I think the British audience might be more open-minded with some of my imagery and weird choices.

I'm afraid that reason will triumph and that the world will become a place where anyone who doesn't fit that will become unnecessary

All states of mind have different views. On the higher plateau, opportunities will open to you because you can see them.

A small error in the former will produce an enormous error in the latter.

Feeling passionate about something doesn't mean you have to be angry.

I am recognizing that the voice inside my head Is urging me to be myself, but never follow someone else Because opinions are like voices, we all have a different kind.

All heaven is interested in the cross of Christ, all hell terribly afraid of it, while men are the only beings who more or less ignore its meaning.

How remorseless life is!

First your legs go. Then you lose your reflexes. Then you lose your friends