To send light into the darkness of men's hearts - such is the duty of the artist.

It was an unforgettable picture to see Chopin sitting at the piano like a clairvoyant, lost in his dreams; to see how his vision communicated itself through his playing, and how, at the end of each piece, he had the sad habit of running one finger over the length of the plaintive keyboard, as though to tear himself forcibly away from his dream.

Think it a vile habit to alter works of good composers, to omit parts of them, or to insert new-fashioned ornaments. This is the greatest insult you can offer to Art.

You write to become immortal, or because the piano happens to be open, or you've looked into a pair of beautiful eyes.

Endeavour to play easy pieces well and with elegance; that is better than to play difficult pieces badly.

For me, music is always the language which permits one to converse with the Beyond.