Patience And Tranquility Of Mind Contribute More

I Choose Such Notes That Love One Another.

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

If People Could See Into My Heart, I Should Almost Feel Ashamed - All There Is Cold, Cold As Ice.

I Have Never Written The Music That Was In My Heart To Write; Perhaps I Never Shall With This Brain And These Fingers, But I Know That Hereafter It Will Be Written; When Instead Of These Few Inlets Of The Senses Through Which We Now Secure Impressions From Without, There Shall Be A Flood Of Impressions From All Sides; And Instead Of These Few Tones Of Our Little Octave, There Shall Be An Infinite Scale Of Harmonies - For I Feel It - I Am Sure Of It. This World Of Music, Whose Borders Even Now I Have Scarcely Entered, Is A Reality, Is Immortal.

Whoever Is Most Impertinent Has The Best Chance.