The age of the great symphonies is over–the line from a Norwegian poem–and what else can you think when the world is now a clattering machine built from violence and propaganda? I know there are excellent composers alive and working. But it is our age, our time that’s the problem. We are smaller by the hour because we need to accommodate ourselves to an era that feels like we’re living in the London Underground.
I prayed last night as I often do. I thought what I try to imagine are large thoughts–prayed for souls lost, lives cut short, for those who suffer from violence and poverty. My prayer went up in the dark with a billion other prayers. That collective, untranslated, uncaptured prayer is the symphony of our age.
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Planet of the Blind 
Good God man you can write. You make me feel like a caveman at the keyboard
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