When I look at commercial studios, I think, "Oh, they're all so nice and tidy," but it's because they don't actually write music in them.

Forget all the equipment, forget the music, at the end of the day it's just literally frequencies and their effects on your brain. That's what's everyone's essentially after.

I got a feeling I had loads when I was in primary school, 'cause I had red hair; you know, like Duracell.

I've got a weird balance problem as a human being, like I'm dizzy, and it's something to do with that.

You change all the time. Everything changes you.

It's not about what equipment you have, it's what you do with it.

I'm just some irritating, lying, ginger kid from Cornwall who should have been locked up in some youth detention centre. I just managed to escape and blag it into music.

It's really funny, because if you make up words, then people project their own meanings onto it, which I find interesting.

A lot of composers before me have been on this mission to change the world by getting off equal temperament, and I'm definitely one of those.

When you get new rules that work, you're changing the physiology of your brain. And then your brain has to reconfigure itself in order to deal with it.

The best musicians or sound-artists are people who never considered themselves to be artists or musicians.

I don't argue things being spiritual vs scientific, because I've never met anyone who knows enough about either to be convincing--including myself.

When I reached 70, the doc said I should try walking 5 miles a day. At 72, I'm still trying to find my way home ☺️

The human face shines as it speaks of thingsNear itself, thoughts full of dreams.The human face shines like a dark skyAs it speaks of those things that oppress the living

Her friend glanced between Cait and Dante.“But Cait, The Hulk has requested my absence. I believe it best if I cooperate.

I have associated myself with failed scientists in order to associate myself with failed irony. ("Metier: Why I Don't Write Like Franz Kafka")

The trouble with the opera is there's always to much singing.

…and there, in the background, the sky’s sediment had sunk to a place where all the woe of the words ‘I am’ dissolved into blue peace. He said it. ‘The ocean.

I know how to win. I have been winning. I do win. Even in sports.

When it turned out that he could, Karou dropped to her knees to genuflect. "Gods of math and physics," she intoned, "I accept your gift of this clever fair-haired boy

You know the awkward class photo when you're sitting there for your school picture and you're 14 or something and you've got braces, and you don't know how to smile, and you've got a hard-on.