“Good composers don’t borrow, they steal.”

A cultural snob is someone who claims to be familiar with the incomprehensible.

Doomed to total failure in a deaf world of ignorance and indifference, he inexorably kept on cutting out his diamonds, his dazzling diamonds, of whose mines he had a perfect knowledge.

Composition is frozen improvisation.

I never am sea sick, never. I am sea drunk!

To continue in one path is to go backward.

Money may kindle, but it cannot by itself, and for very long, burn.

Hurry? I have no time to hurry.

Is it not by love alone that we succeed in penetrating to the very essence of being?

One has a nose. The nose scents and it chooses. An artist is simply a kind of pig snouting truffles.

All music is nothing more than a succession of impulses that converge towards a definite point of repose.

An artist is like a pig snouting truffles.

Music must be listened to; it is not enough to hear it. A duck hears also.

I wonder if memory is true, and I know that it cannot be, but that one lives by memory nevertheless and not by truth.

My God, so much I like to drink Scotch that sometimes I think my name is Igor Stra-whiskey.

The more controlled, limited and tormented art is, the freer it is.

It’s one of nature’s way that we often feel closer to distant generations than to the generation immediately preceding us.

We don’t just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.

Put down the pen someone else gave you. No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink.

I should have known the moment your lips met mine that we were having an affair with borrowed time.

Good debt growth is when you borrow money, and it goes into the real economy. You do capital spending. You build businesses.

If you’re running a business for the long term, the last thing you should be doing is borrowing money to buy back stock.

We used to be hunter-gatherers, now we’re shopper-borrowers.

My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue. All’s well that ends well, to end up with you.

Worry is the interest paid by those who borrow trouble.