The Luck Of Having Talent Is Not

Time, Time - That Is Our Greatest Master! Alas, Like Ugolino, Time Devours Its Own Children.

A Feeble Mind, Conscious Of Its Own Feebleness, Grows Feeble Under That Very Consciousness. As Soon As The Power Of Fear Becomes Known To It, There Follows The Fear Of Fear, And, On The First Perturbation, Reason Abandons It.

If Men Of Genius Only Knew What Love Their Works Inspire!

To Render My Works Properly Requires A Combination Of Extreme Precision And Irresistible Verve, A Regulated Vehemence, A Dreamy Tenderness, And An Almost Morbid Melancholy.

In My Opinion, The Trombone Is The True Head Of The Family Of Wind Instruments, Which I Have Named The 'epic' One. It Possesses Nobility And Grandeur To The Highest Degree; It Has All The Serious And Powerful Tones Of Sublime Musical Poetry, From Religious, Calm And Imposing Accents To Savage, Orgiastic Outburst. Directed By The Will Of The Master, The Trombones Can Chant Like A Choir Of Priests, Threaten, Utter Gloomy Sighs, A Mournful Lament, Or A Bright Hymn Of Glory; They Can Break Forth Into Awe-inspiring Cries And Awaken The Dead Or Doom The Living With Their Fearful Voices.