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

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

There are two contrary impulses which govern this man's brain-the one sane, and the other eccentric. They alternate at regular intervals.

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.

When I wished to sing of love, it turned to sorrow. And when I wished to sing of sorrow, it was transformed for me into love.

No one really understands the grief or joy of another. We always imagine that we are approaching some other, but our lines of travel are actually parallel.

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.