Life's Been Nothing But Paperwork.

Spring Won't Let Me Stay In This House Any Longer! I Must Get Out And Breathe The Air Deeply Again.

If I Weren't The Way I Am, I Shouldn't Write My Symphonies.

The Call Of Love Sounds Very Hollow Among These Immobile Rocks.

It Should Be One’s Sole Endeavor To See Everything Afresh And Create It Anew.

The Point Is Not To Take The World's Opinion As A Guiding Star But To Go One's Way In Life And Working Unerringly, Neither Depressed By Failure Nor Seduced By Applause.