See, the night doth enfold us! See, all the world lies sleeping!.

Art is a kind of illness..

Cold calculation, random spots of color, mathematically exact construction (clearly shown or concealed), drawing that is now silent and now strident ….

I'm working, but there is so much still to be done! And it frightens me to think of my weight of years. But on we go, without fear or hesitation!.

The music of this opera (Madame Butterfly) was dictated to me by God. I was merely instrumental in getting it on paper and communicating it to the pu….

Inspiration is an awakening, a quickening of all man's faculties, and it is manifested in all high artistic achievements..

The work comes into the world at an undetermined hour, from a still unknown, but it comes inevitably..

I lived for art, I lived for love.