No one feels another's grief.

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.

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

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.

I try to decorate my imagination as much as I can.

Above all things, I must not get angry. If I do get angry I knock all the teeth out of the mouth of the poor wretch who has angered me.