People sometimes ask me what I would do if I were elected president. And what I say is that the first thing I would do is establish a war crimes tribunal to try me for the war crimes that I’m going to commit. 
An intellectual in power should act to eliminate his own power.

People sometimes ask me what I would do if I were elected president. And what I say is that the first thing I would do is establish a war crimes tribunal to try me for the war crimes that I’m going to commit. 

An intellectual in power should act to eliminate his own power.

Mathematics is the heart and soul of music… Without question the bar, the rhythm, the proportion of the parts of a musical work and so on must all be measured… . Notes and other signs are only tools in music, the heart and soul is the good proportion of melody and harmony. It is ridiculous to say that mathematics is not the heart and soul of music. 

Whoever wishes to write music must outline his complete project on a sheet, sketch it roughly and arrange it in an orderly manner before he proceeds to the elaboration. In my humble opinion this is the best way of all to ensure that each part will demonstrate a specific proportion, uniformity and agreement: for nothing in the world is more pleasing to the ear.

 - Johann Mattheson, from Der Vollkommene Capellmeister

Prof. Briggs: "There’s a reason why it was called the common practice. In humbler days, the common practice was practiced, and composers used to actually work things out and compose. Today that rarely exists, and you should tell composers they should go quit when they suck. Don’t clap when it’s bad, don’t play their bad work. Bad is underprepared and classless. Don’t be an enabler of bad behavior."

"To perform its duty—which is to govern—the mind must have been trained in such a way that nothing can escape its control: this implies enable to catch sound, isolated as as superimposed or in linear succession, to feel rhythm (I mean rhythm and not only bar division; this in its is a subject which would require less comments), and eventually make the complex structure of the work as a whole perceptible.
In order to obey the commands the mind, the fingers, the hands, the arms must have achieved such a degree of independence and skill, a variety of touch, of such a delicasy a speed and strength, that they all at once perform everything which is required.
That mind and body should have been granted natural faculties goes without saying; but with gifts alone one cannot get very far. It is important to remember that the greater the gifts the greater must be the character, the power of work, the conscience, the moral and spiritual value of him to whom they were given.”

"To perform its duty—which is to govern—the mind must have been trained in such a way that nothing can escape its control: this implies enable to catch sound, isolated as as superimposed or in linear succession, to feel rhythm (I mean rhythm and not only bar division; this in its is a subject which would require less comments), and eventually make the complex structure of the work as a whole perceptible.

In order to obey the commands the mind, the fingers, the hands, the arms must have achieved such a degree of independence and skill, a variety of touch, of such a delicasy a speed and strength, that they all at once perform everything which is required.

That mind and body should have been granted natural faculties goes without saying; but with gifts alone one cannot get very far. It is important to remember that the greater the gifts the greater must be the character, the power of work, the conscience, the moral and spiritual value of him to whom they were given.”

"Inner gifts, exceptional ones, determined the career of Gabriel Fauré - the balance between sensibility and reason has made its beauty….His music is inwardly moving: without pose, vain exclamations or outcry, it ponders, loves, and suffers…He seems to have conceived religion rather in the manner of St. John or St. Francis of Assisi than St. Bernard, or Bousset. He looks for and finds in it a source of love and not of fear. This must be accepted if he is to be understood…The Requiem is not only one of the greatest works of Gabriel Fauré, but also one of those which do most honor to music and thought. Nothing has been written which is purer, clearer in definition… Certainly his musical web, his architecture, his reason and order, are the essential causes of his sovereign beauty, as one could demonstrate with a joy, a pride, and a respect for all the minutiae of his workmanship. But it is where these attributes end, admirable as they are, that the real Requiem begins. No exterior effect alters its sober and rather severe expression of grief, no restlessness troubles its deep meditation, no doubt stains its spotless faith, its gentle confidence, its tender and tranquil expectancy. All is truly captivating and marked with the hand of a master. Everything is usual; but with an alteration, a passing note, some special inflection of which he has the secret. Gabriel Fauré gives a new and inimitable character to all that he touches. The end with its linked chords, descending in double measures, strangely recalls an adorable Agnus Dei in G major, by Claudio Monteverdi. ‘The artist must love life, and show us that it is beautiful.’ All that Gabriel Fauré has touched he has sensitized and made cherishable. If anything could truly mitigate for us the thought of death, it would be the image of hope, of serenity which he has made for us.”

Nadia Boulanger reflecting on her teacher, Gabriel Fauré.

"I find it quite inexhaustible to study. There is a sort of heavenly or at least more than human gaiety about some of his later things which one imagines might come to oneself as the fruit of reconciliation and relief after immense suffering; I should like to get something of that into verse before I die."~ T. S. Eliot, in a letter to Stephen Spender regarding Beethoven’s Late Quartets

"I find it quite inexhaustible to study. There is a sort of heavenly or at least more than human gaiety about some of his later things which one imagines might come to oneself as the fruit of reconciliation and relief after immense suffering; I should like to get something of that into verse before I die."
T. S. Eliot, in a letter to Stephen Spender regarding Beethoven’s Late Quartets