(dialogue taken from the book of P. Quignard and
the film by A. Corneau "Tous les matins du monde")

What are you searching Mylord in music ?
I'm searching for tears and regrets
Music exists only to express what is not possible to express by words

You have found that's not created for the king
I found that's created for God
You were wrong because God speaks
It's created for the ear
It's not for the ear what's not possible to be talked about
For the gold, ...the glory,...the silence...
The silence is only the contrary of the language
For the musician...
No
Love ?
No
The regret of love ?
No
The abandon ?
No, No
For a wafer offered to the invisible ?
No, what's a wafer, it exists just to be eaten....it's nothing.
I don't know Mylord, ...we should leave a glass to the dead...
Please go on, you're getting the point...
A little drinking through for the ones deserted by language...,
to sweet the shadows of children, the states preceeding childhood
when we are without breath and light...

I'm wind, do you believe one doesn't suffer being wind ?
Sometimes the wind carries the music to us
as sometimes the light carries to you the appearances.