What a picture of a better world you have given us, Mozart!
Approval or blame will follow in the world to come.
Every night when I go to bed, I hope that I may never wake again, and every morning renews my grief.
I am in the world only for the purpose of composing.
Anyone who loves music can never be quite unhappy.
Why should the composer be more guilty than the poet who warms to fantasy by a strange flame, making an idea that inspires him the subject of his own very different treatment?