I received two letters from him. I wrote him October 25 in New York and asked him for word of his arrival plans in Hollywood. I expected a telegram from him announcing the hour of his airplane. On November 9 the telegram came. It said he was dead. All I could do was cry.
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"I never am sea sick, never. I am sea drunk!"
"I am a very disciplined man. I work every day."
"In composing this music [Petrushka], I had a clear vision of a puppet, suddenly brought to life, and who also tries the patience of the orchestra with cascades of diabolical arpeggios."
"Why is it that whenever I hear a piece of music I don't like, it's always by Villa Lobos?"
"Lesser artists borrow, great artists steal."
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