Only the pure in heart can make a good soup.

Let your deafness no longer be a secret - even in art.

What is to reach the heart must come from above; if it does not come from thence, it will be nothing but notes, body without spirit.

Strange, I feel as if up to now I had written no more than a few notes.

My heart is full of many things there are moments when I feel that speech is nothing after all.

You ask me where I get my ideas. That I cannot tell you with certainty. They come unsummoned, directly, indirectly - I could seize them with my hands - out in the open air, in the woods, while walking, in the silence of the nights, at dawn, excited by moods which are translated by the poet into words, by me into tones that sound and roar and storm about me till I have set them down in notes.

Music is like a dream. One that I cannot hear.