Straight-away the ideas flow in upon me, directly from God, and not only do I see distinct themes in my mind's eye, but they are clothed in the right forms, harmonies, and orchestration.

I sometimes ponder on variation form and it seems to me it ought to be more restrained, purer.

What would become of all historical biography if it was written only with consideration for other peoples' feelings?

We cling nervously to the melody, but we don't handle it freely, we don't really make anything new out of it, we merely overload it.

In him converge all previous streams of tendency, not as into a pool, stagnant, passive, motionless, but as a noble river that received its tributary waters and bearss them onward in larger and statelier volume.

How lucky is the man who, like Mozart and others, goes to the tavern of an evening and writes some fresh music. For he lives while he is creating.

For the shallow delights of matrimony and opera I have no courage.