I am hitting my head against the walls, but the walls are giving way.
What is best in music is not to be found in the notes.
Behind me the branches of a wasted and sterile existence are cracking.
Discipline, work. Work, discipline.
I don't let myself get carried away by my own ideas; I abandon 19 out of 20 of them every day.
The point is not to take the world's opinion as a guiding star but to go one's way in life and working unerringly, neither depressed by failure nor seduced by applause.