This searching and doubting and vacillating where nothing is clear but the arrogance of quest. I, too, had such noble ideas when I was still a boy.

Servants honor their master by their service.

Mozart starved, but you allow Thalberg and Liszt make tons of gold: Of course, you may think that someone immortal cannot die of hunger

It is not a matter of desire, but of coercion and duty.

The real genres: good and bad.

Austrian soldiers are like horses: brave but easily frightened.

The manifestation of poetry in external life is formal perfection. True sentiment grows within, and art must represent internal phenomena externally.