The call of love sounds very hollow among these immobile rocks.
I am thrice homeless, as a native of Bohemia in Austria, as an Austrian among Germans, and as a Jew throughout the world. Everywhere an intruder, never welcomed.
All that is not perfect down to the smallest detail is doomed to perish.
It is strange how one feels drawn forward without knowing at first where one is going.
In Bach, the vital cells of music are united as the world is in God.
Destiny smiles upon me but without making me the least bit happier.