I Am In The World Only For

Anyone Who Loves Music Can Never Be Quite Unhappy.

Above All Things, I Must Not Get Angry. If I Do Get Angry I Knock All The Teeth Out Of The Mouth Of The Poor Wretch Who Has Angered Me.

The World Resembles A Stage On Which Every Man Is Playing A Part.

I Try To Decorate My Imagination As Much As I Can.

Why Should The Composer Be More Guilty Than The Poet Who Warms To Fantasy By A Strange Flame, Making An Idea That Inspires Him The Subject Of His Own Very Different Treatment?