It is impossible to imagine a more complete fusion with nature than that of the Gypsy.

Mournful and yet grand is the destiny of the artist.

My mind and fingers have worked like the damned. Homer, the Bible, Plato, Locke, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, Beethoven, Bach, Hummel, Mozart, Weber are all around me. I study them. I devour them with fury.

The supreme harmony of the cosmos is selected in the harmony of the spirit.

When you write the story of two happy lovers, let the story be set on the banks of Lake Como.

The music of the Gypsies belongs in the sphere of improvisation rather than in any other, without which it would have no power to exist.

I carry a deep sadness of the heart which must now and then break out in sound.