One bites into the brass mouthpiece of his wooden cudgel, and the other blows his cheeks out on a French horn. Do you call that Art?

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

No one feels another's grief.

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

There are eight girls in the house in which I am living, and practically all of them are good looking. You can realize that I am kept busy.

I never force myself to be devout except when I feel so inspired, and never compose hymns of prayers unless I feel within me real and true devotion.

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