“The sky on a clear night is a living, pulsating thing. The stars are like musical notes turned to light, and, like notes, they shimmer and swell and fade and fall. The painters have never captured it—but they never will until some painter teaches his colors to dance.”
“Musicians have notes. Painters have paint. Writers have words.”
“To him the stars seemed like so many musical notes affixed to the sky, just waiting for somebody to unfasten them. Someday the sky would be emptied, but by then the earth would be a constellation of musical scores”
“I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music. ”
“I didn’t know that painters and writers retired. They’re like soldiers – they just fade away.”
“The painter had achieved what we would all like to do: capture time and make it stand still”