My compositions spring from my sorrows. Those that give the world the greatest delight were born of my deepest griefs.

Every night when I go to bed, I hope that I may never wake again, and every morning renews my grief.

No one understands another's grief, no one understands another's joy... My music is the product of my talent and my misery. And that which I have written in my greatest distress is what the world seems to like best.

You believe happiness to be derived from the place in which once you have been happy, but in truth it is centered in ourselves.

Approval or blame will follow in the world to come.

Love is in the air these days, so we thought we'd give a try to make your day a little brighter.

Why does God endow us with compassion?