I am composing like a god, as if it simply had to be done as it has been done.

Nobody understands another's sorrow, and nobody another's joy.

It sometimes seems to me as if I do not belong to this world at all. I deplore music that engenders in people not love but madness: which rouses them to scornful laughter instead of lifting their thoughts to God.

Approval or blame will follow in the world to come.

What a picture of a better world you have given us, Mozart!

No one feels another's grief, no one understands another's joy. People imagine they can reach one another. In reality they only pass each other by.

Our castle is not imposing, but is well built, and surrounded by a very fine garden. I live in the bailiff's house.