I beg of you... never assume an inner or an outer pose, never a disguise.

I also had a brother who was like me a musician and a composer. A man of great talent, far more gifted than I. He died very young... he killed himself in the prime of his life.

I am hitting my head against the walls, but the walls are giving way.

Don't bother looking at the view - I have already composed it.

The further the music develops, the more complex the apparatus used by the composer to express his thoughts becomes.

Spring won't let me stay in this house any longer! I must get out and breathe the air deeply again.

If I weren't the way I am, I shouldn't write my symphonies.