I Am In The World Only For

Our Castle Is Not Imposing, But Is Well Built, And Surrounded By A Very Fine Garden. I Live In The Bailiff's House.

There Is No Such Thing As Happy Music.

Who Can Do Anything After Beethoven?

I Am Composing Like A God, As If It Simply Had To Be Done As It Has Been Done.

One Bites Into The Brass Mouthpiece Of His Wooden Cudgel, And The Other Blows His Cheeks Out On A French Horn. Do You Call That Art?