Oh, you happy sons of the North who have been reared at the bosom of Bach, how I envy you!

I have striven for perfection, it has always eluded me, but I surely had an obligation to make one more try.

Our mistake, you see, was to write interminable large operas, which had to fill an entire evening. And now along comes someone with a one or two-act opera without all that pompous nonsense - that was a happy reform.

I adore art...when I am alone with my notes, my heart pounds and the tears stream from my eyes, and my emotion and my joys are too much to bear.

You may have the universe if I may have Italy.

It is better to invert reality than to copy it.

Oh, you happy sons of the North who have been reared at the bosom of Bach, how I envy you!