In The Image Of The Lion Made

If One Has No Heart, One Cannot Write For The Masses.

God Will Forgive Me The Foolish Remarks I Have Made About Him Just As I Will Forgive My Opponents The Foolish Things They Have Written About Me, Even Though They Are Spiritually As Inferior To Me As I To Thee, O God!

Round My Cradle Shimmered The Last Moonbeams Of The Eighteenth Century And The First Morning Rays Of The Nineteenth.

Music Is A Strange Thing. I Would Almost Say It Is A Miracle.

All I Really Want Is Enough To Live On, A Little House In The Country... And A Tree In The Garden With Seven Of My Enemies Hanging In It.