Our riches, being in our brains, die with us... Unless of course someone chops off our head, in which case, we won't need them anyway.

Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.

My dear sister! I’m amazed to discover that you can compose so delightfully. In a word, your Lied is beautiful. You must compose more often.

I too had to work hard, so as not to have to work hard any longer.

God first, then papa.

My fatherland has always the first claim on me.

Music must never offend the ear, but must please the listener, or, in other words, must never cease to be music.