I Write [music] As A Sow Piddles.

Now Let The Matter Rest As It Is, Or As It May Be, What Avail Useless Speculations? What Is To Occur We Do Not Know; Still In So Far We Do! What God Wills!

It Is A Mistake To Think That The Price Of My Art Has Become Easy To Me.

I Should Like To Know For What Reason Idleness Is So Popular With Many Young People That It Is Impossible To Dissuade Them From It Either By Words Or By Chastisements.

Melody Is The Essence Of Music. I Compare A Good Melodist To A Fine Racer, And Counterpoints To Hack Post-horses.

Our Riches, Being In Our Brains, Die With Us... Unless Of Course Someone Chops Off Our Head, In Which Case, We Won't Need Them Anyway.